Broken Glass
My throat seizes up and my palms begin to sweat. I feel my legs shake beneath me as the paralyzing fear grips my entire body. Doctors in scrubs and surgical masks lift me off my current gurney onto a new one. Everything around me is stark white and sterile looking; my heart continues to race and my breaths become short and shallow. Tubes are going into my mouth and nose and I feel as though every nerve in my body is on fire.
“She’s experiencing decreased breaths and she’s burning up,” says one doctor in a rushed voice. Another one grabs my forearm and attaches an IV to it. My eyes dart around the room and bounce from face to face. Suddenly, my vision is a blur and I can’t quite seem to focus. The weight on my chest becomes heavier by the second, and my lungs feel like they’re about to explode. A high pitched wheezing sound fills the room and overcomes the beeping of the machines. I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. The doctors’ faces look more panicked as the sound continues and then I realize that it’s me. I feel my lungs constrict as I struggle to just simply breathe. It’s literally the sound of inevitable death. The same thought races through my mind. Oh my god, it’s back. The cancer’s back. I keep trying to scream, but nothing seems to come out. The fear suffocates me; it traps me in my own body. I’m drowning in a waterless abyss caused by my own panic, and there’s nothing I can do.
I wake up gasping for air. I swear my heart is beating so hard that I can hear it. My blue bed sheets are covered in sweat and my hair is matted in the back. I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing. It was just a dream. Only a dream. Still, a sense of fear lingers within me. That’s the worse part about having had cancer. The fear of the sickness returning haunts me in every aspect of my life. It becomes an inhibition; a constant trepidation.
The morning sunlight streams through my bedroom window and casts shades of light onto my bed and the cluttered bookshelf across from it. I stand up and stretch. My joints and muscles ache from sleeplessness. Looking in the mirror I see that my once luminous brown eyes are now lifeless and dull. I don’t recognize the gaunt and drained girl staring back at me. She looks sad and empty; like she’s lost all hope. I’m trying to remember that there once was a time when I was healthy, impulsive, and even fun, but that girl died the minute she was diagnosed with cancer. I don’t think I’ll ever get that part of me back.
“Come on Riley, it’s time to eat!” my mother yells from the kitchen downstairs. I throw my matted brown hair into a bun and head down. My feet pad along the wood floors and I run my hand over the framed pictures lining the hall. A small wooden frame with a long crack in the glass catches my eye. It’s of me and my best friend Hannah. We both have our arms looped around each other and Hannah’s long blond hair is sticking up in all different directions from the wind. She’s looking straight at the camera; laughing. Her blue eyes are squinted and her white teeth look dazzling. I’m looking at her, laughing too, with my hair blowing straight out behind me. I remember that day, that moment. It was taken pre-cancer; I look happy. Sighing, I continue down the stairs.
It’s about nine o’clock when the doorbell rings. I open the oak wood door and Hannah walks straight in without pause; her long legs strut over to the living room. “Hi Mr. And Mrs. Summers, how are you?” Hannah says with innocence oozing from her voice. 
They both turn and smile. “Oh we’re good honey, thanks for asking,” Hannah smiles in return, and then follows me up the stairs to my room.
“You know you left your coat here the other day, and your headphones.” I say, glancing back at Hannah. She looks a bit confused.
“I did? Hmm… the black coat?”
“No it’s your red one. You left your scarf here like last week too.”
“Oh okay, I guess I’ve been a bit forgetful lately. I’ll remember to take them home tomorrow morning then I guess.” Hannah says as she tosses her hair over her shoulder. “So what are our plans for tonight Riles?”
“I was thinking another movie night?” I ask a bit cautiously, already knowing her response.
“Ughhhh come on. That’s all we ever do.” She twists her hair in her hand and then gives me a pleading smile. “Look there’s this party tonight. It’s at Tanner Martin’s house and starts at eleven. Everybody’s going to be there.”               
I roll my eyes. “Hannah, I really don’t feel like going out tonight.” She gives me an exasperated sigh. “Plus we’d probably get caught anyways. I mean, my parents would kill me.”
Hannah goes over to my desk and grabs my favorite red nail polish. She plops down on the floor and begins to paint her nails; rather meticulously. Her long hair cascades over her face and her pouty lips purse together in a tight line of concentration. Even just sitting here on the floor, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, she still looks beautiful. Hannah’s always been the pretty one, the impulsive one. Everybody loves her, and I mean-I don’t blame them. She’s very frank, but in the best way possible. She never pretends to be something she’s not; it’s one of my favorite things about her.
“Let’s go to the party,” I say a bit hesitantly. Hannah looks surprised.
“Really?” she says with a sort of youthful enthusiasm.
“Yeah, I guess it’s time to be a bit reckless.”
            *  *   *
The stairs creak as we tiptoe down them. I glance at my parent’s bedroom down the hall and silently pray that we don’t get caught. Hannah lets out a snort as she stumbles over a misplaced shoe in the darkness. “Shhh!” I say while struggling to hold in my own laughter. Although I’m a bit uncertain about my sudden rashness, a feeling of exhilaration keeps me going.
Finally we’ve reached the front door. I hold my breath as I slowly turn the knob. Thankfully, the door doesn’t squeak and we’re able to make it outside before exploding into a round of giggles. We’re still laughing when we load into Hannah’s car. We drive for about 15 minutes until we’re about 4 miles or so out of town. The street is empty and Hannah pulls into an extended driveway with a massive log house at the end of it. Excitement and anticipation gnaw at my stomach until I’m sick with butterflies. I’ve never actually been to a party before, so I have no idea what to expect.
We’ve parked the car and we’re about 20 feet outside of the house, but I can already hear the music pulsating inside. Red solo cups litter the front lawn and two girls burst out the front door; laughing and slurring their words. They both raise they’re cups at us and the red headed girls says “Heyyyy l-look it’s Hannah banana,” her blonde friend sways a little and struggles to stay standing as she says “Hannah! Cute shirt.” She then proceeds to spill her drink on her shorts. Hannah smiles and nods at them as we reach the porch and open the door. Realizing that I’m not going to know a single person at this party, I begin to have some serious regret.
Hannah opens the door. “Hannah I don’t-” I try to say, but I’m immediately cut off and swallowed up by a mass of girls wearing short-shorts and guys in T-shirts and khakis. The unmistakable smell of alcohol has infiltrated the air and I’m instantly overwhelmed by it all. I look to Hannah for some support, but she’s gone; consumed by the mass. Panic begins to set in. I have no idea who any of these people are and the only person I know has abandoned me. Great I mutter under my breath. Unsure of what to do, I decide to head to the kitchen for a drink; that’s probably where Hannah is anyways, I think to myself.
The kitchen’s only down the hallway, but it takes a good 10 minutes for me to squeeze past all the people. I’ve almost reached the sink when a short girl with long brown hair and huge green eyes ran straight into me; spilling her drink all over my white shirt. Her face is red and her eyes are glossy “S-sorry bout ‘that,” she manages to stammer out. This night is not turning out how I expected. Another 10 minutes pass and I still can’t find Hannah. My patience is growing increasingly short and I’m about to head outside for some air when flashes of blue, red, and white, suddenly glare from outside. Ice cold fear runs down my entire body and I freeze. “POLICE!” screams a tall shaggy-haired boy standing next to me. For a second, everybody stops talking. Then, chaos erupts. Girls scream and attempt to force their way to the back of the house. I frantically scan the room for Hannah, and as luck would have it, I spot her distinctive blonde hair. I desperately claw my way towards her and grab her arm as soon as I’m close enough. I yank her so she’s standing right beside me. Her face looks flushed; she’s clearly had a couple drinks. Again I feel anger grow inside me, but I force it down.
“Come on, we gotta go. Now.” Hannah nods and we thrust ourselves between the maze of intoxicated teenagers and eventually reach a side door. We burst through it and the cool wind whips us in the face; we instantly start running. Adrenaline pulses through my veins and pushes me to go faster even though my muscles are screaming and aching for me to stop. Fire burns within my chest as my lungs struggle to breath in the crisp air. Every nerve in my body is just begging my legs to stop moving, but I push past the pain. We’re both panting and gasping for air by the time we make it to the car. I grab the keys from Hannah and we pile in. I start the engine and speed away.
Neither of us says anything the entire ride back. I’m fuming with anger, so I don’t bother to even look at Hannah. We both reek of alcohol, her more than me. Finally she says “Riley I’m sorry,” she pauses. “This usually doesn’t happen. Cops never even patrol that area.”
I still don’t look at her. Staring straight ahead I say, “You left me. You were the only person I knew there, and you ditched me. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew we shouldn’t have come. We should have just stayed in and watched movies like I wanted.”
Hannah’s voice turned stony. “You have got to be kidding me. That’s all you ever do. God, live a little. You’re not gonna be young forever ya know, so quit wasting your time sitting around doing nothing. Seriously what happened to the Riley I used to be friends with?”
I’m entirely taken aback by her sudden snap. Her words cut through me like ice and I feel that pit of anger grow bigger. “You know what; I guess that Riley died when she got cancer. God, you just don’t understand-”
“I don’t understand?” She cuts me off, her voice is filled with growing hysteria. “When you got sick I was there for you. I was always there for you. You were diagnosed with cancer two years ago. You fought it for a year and you beat it. You survived cancer, yet I feel like I lost you to it anyways.” Her voice begins to break and I can see her forcing back tears. “I mean, what are you waiting for? Why are you so scared to live?” 
“Cause you know what Hannah, bad things are just inevitable. It’s the feeling of maybe someday getting sick again that’s constantly tearing me apart. I still remember the feeling of fire in my veins; of being weak and totally out of control of my own body. You just don’t understand what that’s like, Hannah.” She flinches at this. Her voice comes out choked and strained
“You’d be surprised.”
I’m not sure what she means by this but I continue to rant. “I’m like a minefield. Someday I’m just going to blow up and destroy everything. It’s predestined. It’s my fate.”
Hannah shakes her head and looks down.
“I can’t handle this right now Riley. I have a migraine and I’m exhausted. I’m going home. I’m fine to drive.” By this time we’ve made it to my house. I look at Hannah, but she doesn’t look at me. She continues to stare ahead; her face looks unsympathetic. Feeling hurt, I slowly get out of the car. Hannah slides over to the driver’s side and starts the car again. She drives away without looking back at me. I trudge to my house with tears welling up in my eyes.
      *  *  *
My mother calls me down to breakfast. Walking towards the hall I trip over the same misplaced shoe and accidentally knock off one of the framed pictures hanging up. It lands face down and shatters. I moan and pick the picture up. Of course it’s the one of Hannah and me laughing. I run my hand over the broken glass. The spidery cracks sprawl across our smiling faces. We look so happy, I just want to go back to that day, and back to before I had cancer. Life was so easy then; I was so naïve to think that nothing bad could ever happen to me. I think about Hannah too, and how I miss her. Hannah and I haven’t talked since the night of the party. It’s been two weeks. I’m beginning to get a little nervous. Usually our fights just blow over within a day or two. I grab my phone and dial her house number. It rings three times until her mom picks it up.
“Hello?”
“Hi Mrs. Gavles, this is Riley. Is Hannah home?” There’s a long pause.
“Yes she is. But she can’t talk right now, can I take a message?” Her voice sounds empty and void of emotion. This makes me anxious; she’s usually chipper and talkative.
“Um…Yeah. Well I was just wondering if I could stop by to talk to her in person.” Another long pause. Something doesn’t seem right.
“I don’t know sweetie-”
“Please, I really just need to talk to her.” I say pleadingly.
She sighs.
“Sure sweetie, stop by anytime.”
I hang up the phone and immediately grab my car keys along with Hannah’s coat and headphones that she never remembered to grab. The entire ride there I wrestle with my thoughts.
I knock on the door and fiddle with my sleeves as I wait for an answer. Mrs. Gavles opens the door and lets me in. She looks tired; I can see the exhaustion in her eyes. I become increasingly concerned.
“Is everything okay?” I ask in a small voice. Mrs. Gavles just looks at me and puts her hand on my shoulder. She offers me a sad smile and I know that something is really wrong. She leads me into the living room. Hannah’s laying on what looks like a small hospital bed and she’s hooked up to a few beeping machines. I feel myself shake and tears fill my eyes.
“I-I don’t understand.” I rush to Hannah’s side. She’s awake but I barely recognize her. Her eyes have deep bags under them and her skin has paled immensely.
“Hey Riles.” She says weakly with a small smile.
My voice is choked up and strained with tears. “What’s going on?” I manage to say.
Hannah doesn’t answer me. She just looks at the ground. After what feels like an eternity she whispers faintly, “I’m sick Riley. I’ve been sick for a while; about three months.” My sobs become hysterical
“Sick? Like what kind of sick?” I ask feverishly. She doesn’t answer again. “Please Han, just tell me. Please.”
“It’s brain cancer Riles. Terminal.” Her voice sounds strangely calm even though I feel my entire world just shatter before me. Suddenly it becomes hard to breathe.
“What? How-I-” The sobs make it impossible to talk.
“My mom took me into the doctor a few months ago because I was having really bad migraines and memory fog. They ended up finding a golf ball sized tumor pushing on my frontal lobe.” I look down at the coat and headphones in my hands; the ones she forgot. I think about the scarf she left at my house. I remember our fight and how she left because she had a migraine. I’m filled with self-loathing for not having seen this before. I continue to sob hysterically.
“It’s okay Riles.” She says with complete sincerity.
“No. It’s not.” I say, “I’ve been so absorbed in my own world that I never even realized-” A steady stream of tears continues to roll down my face. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself either. Telling you makes it real.” I’m again so overcome by emotion that I’m unable to form words. Looking at Hannah I finally get it. Although death is inevitable I can't waste my time worrying about the future. I can’t let these fears inhibit me from living my life.
“I’m sorry it took so long to tell you Riley. I thought I had more time.” Her eye fill with tears and her shoulders shake as she tries to repress her sobs. “Three weeks Riles, they’re giving me three weeks.”
I climb into the bed with her and we hold each other and cry. I can’t even imagine a world without my best friend. I don’t even want to see a world without her. For now though, I try not to think about it. We just hold each other.
      *  *  *
I’ll never forget what she told me the day before she died. She said; “Promise me something. Promise me that you won’t use fate as an excuse to wait for things to happen instead of making things happen. Promise me you’ll remember that happiness is achieved when you stop waiting for it, but is instead achieved by making something of the moment you’re in right now. Promise me Riles.”
“I promise.”