We hoped (Esmee)

Hell i am sorry i am really not sure of this chapter but i had to mfinish it some way. As i said it is only a rough working through here. The main story is on the other site. I may drop the whole Kathy thing entirly yet. Any way  for the time that is here. I hope this isn't to abismal!

 

We hope

 “The hospital; Yeah right. Not a hope in hell is that happening Esmee. Do you have any idea what my mother would say to that? My dad would never speak to me ever again either,” Kathy scoffed her voice somewhere between amusement and complete and utter fear.

“If you’re dead neither your mother nor farther would have a chance of talking to you ever again anyway.”

“Yes I know but if I am dead I wouldn’t feel it. If I was dead, if I was gone, I wouldn’t have to look into their eyes everyday of forever and see that the daughter they jumped through rings for was nothing, more than a disappointment to them – someone that could have changed the world but instead landed up in the A&E. It’s not really their feelings that I care about even though I should do. I mostly just care what my soul would feel like. What is the point of fighting to live if you spend the rest of your life wishing that you were dead?

I sighed running out of words to say to her suddenly feeling mentally exhausted as well as physically There was so many things that I could have and should have said to her and I wanted to but the ending seemed fixed. I would not change her mind that her parents would much rather haver her alive and in the hands of doctors for no matter what reason then having to watch as her coffin disappeared behind a curtain at the end of a ceremony of songs that tried to sum up the life of a girl that should have still had at least sixty more years spread out in front of her. It was devastating, so devastating that without any warning I found tears pricking at the back of my eyes that I pushed back down, biting on my bottom lip in protest that my emotions had betrayed me once again.

“I’m scared Esmee, I don’t know what to do, I am not as strong as I look. I walk around like I understand, like that is nothing that will ever get to me and here you are asking me to go to the hospital. I don’t want to be the freak. I want to be the super girl that everyone expects. I could be perfect if I could just pull myself together. If I didn’t cry over every small little thing – if I could stop waking up every morning and just hoping all day that someone would just give me a hug and tell me that it will all be OK even if it is a lie.” Kathy’s head dropped down and she pressed her hands into her eyes. I had lacked the words to help her because mentally for the smallest of time I had given up on her and now she thought it was hopeless. I had been the first person to every stop her and reach out my hand to her and I may have just made it worse. I should have known better. You never stop trying. You never stop talking, even if you have to say the same thing a thousand different times in a thousand different ways there should never be exasperation in your tone and you should never stop fighting.

“You are going to be OK,” I confirmed sternly as I shifted as close as I could to Kathy and wrapped my arm around her shoulders.  Her body was stiff against mine. Her back arched out like the contact may have burnt her in some way, her shoulders tort and body against the joint. I should have let her go but I couldn’t, her devastation making my arms want to wrap around her so tightly it took all my effort not to bundle her onto my lap. I wiped my eyes with my other hand discreetly. Hormones were making me a wreck over little things.

“I won’t hurt you Kathy,” I whispered gently

“I know, but you are the first person who has put there arm around me in nearly five years. It feels strange.” If she was trying to break my heart it was working. She was sixteen years old and no one had touched her in five years. They were only trying to help it was true but people laid on expectations that she couldn’t handle and never even bothered to reward her with a hug, never granted her any reassurance that she was going to be OK. That she would be loved even if she wasn’t perfect.

“You’re going to be OK sweetheart,” I said again turning myself towards her so I could wrap my other arm around her as well bringing her in close to me in a hug. I wasn’t who she wanted of course. My comfort and embrace meant very little to her on the inside. I could have hugged her forever and she would have given it all up if her mother or farther would tell her once that she was good enough, that they were proud of her just the way she was. That there love for her was unconditional and it wouldn’t go away if she produced something less than perfect.

 I was nothing too her. A passing stranger that in reality had been promising her something that I couldn’t really promise. It should have been that way of course, that a call for help wouldn’t go unanswered but the world was undeniably flawed. My hope had been offering her something that may not have existed. Parental compassion was not always guaranteed, and a doctor’s qualifications on paper were sometimes exactly that in the real world; paper thin and pointless.

“You are going to be OK Kathy. It will be all OK in the end,” I promised again because there was nothing more left to do in the situation. I could live with the hope that it was true and that was what we all did at the end of the day. When things seemed  impossible, when things were bad – we hoped.