Message-ID: <40459asstr$1042661403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Oke X-Original-Message-ID: User-Agent: Xnews/L5 NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 15 Jan 2003 07:43:32 EST X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 15 Jan 2003 12:43:32 GMT Subject: {ASSM} "The Life of Sarah" (Mf, rom) Date: Wed, 15 Jan 2003 15:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman This is a dirty story. don't read if you are underage, easily offended, or likely to get tossed in the clink. Unauthorized use of this story will only serve to enrage a former Army Ranger. So there. The Life of Sarah by Oke Chapter One James sat alone in the waiting room, staring at the cheerful orange wall opposite him. He briefly considered leaving, but he just couldn't get up off his ass. Finally, the receptionist behind the desk called his name, then told him to wait in room 3, which was the same room James always got whenever he came here. He thought it was where they sent all the people who were going to die. He'd seen the sterile white walls with pictures of Dr. Saeed's fishing adventures in the Bahamas, a few of which James thought he single-handedly paid for. Along with the usual assortment of diplomas, family portraits and said fishing pictures, there was a framed quote by the brilliant philosopher "Anonymous". It read, "All things are impermanent, except for change. Change one life for the better, and you have only started an eternal goodness." James hated that quote. Dr. Saeed came in a few minutes later, sitting in the chair opposite the examination table James was seated on. James watched as Dr. Saeed flipped through a thick chart in his hands, clearly marked "Smith, James H." Finally, Dr. Saeed shut it and looked James straight in the eyes. "I'm afraid, James, that your condition has become terminal. What you've told me about your symptoms indicates that your leukemia has advanced into the blastic stage, and once in this stage, there's no hope for recovery. I'm sorry, James." He had so much practice at this, James thought, that it was starting to come naturally. James nodded his head and thanked the doctor. "James, there's a group that meets at St. Joseph's Hospital tonight. It's for patients with terminal cancers, and I think that you could benefit from this group. I know how difficult it is to face death; I see it every day. A lot of the people there are patients of mine, and they tell me that it gives them a lot of strength in their last days." "How many last days are we talking about, doctor?" James suddenly felt a chill in his spine, not sure if it was the leukemia or the possibility of him dying soon. "Well, I'm not going to lie to you. It could be a week, it could be up to three months. You're young, fit; you may still have a bit of time. Will you go to the meeting tonight? I'm sure it will help you in what lies ahead." James left quickly, still debating whether to go or not. As he left the waiting room, he saw two women in a corner seat. The older one was crying, holding the younger one's head in her lap, brushing her hand over her hair. The young one just stared ahead at the cheerful orange walls. She couldn't have been more than fifteen, James thought. He shook his head in disgust as his stomach twisted inside of him. James felt much better than usual that night, and was able to keep food down for the first time in about a week. He'd lost five pounds since then, and about fifty in a year. His clothes were sagging off his frame, which still seemed more fit that thin, as James exercised as often as he felt he could. For three years he had battled his disease, longer than most people even lived, and he credited it to the workouts. Unfortunately, his disease would win in the end, which would be soon. He finally found the conference room on the fourth floor, and took a seat near the back. Already there were at least thirty people here, conversing amongst themselves. A hug was shared and tears were shed as people talked to each other, until the group leader asked everyone to take their seats. James watched as the small groups sat together, leaving him alone. After the first speaker gave a spiel about how meditation has helped him face death, the group leader asked all the new members to stand and introduce themselves. James was the only new member, which made him even more nervous, causing a sharp pain in his gut. He shook it off, then began. "My name is James, and I have Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia. my body is producing too many white blood cells, and nothing can stop it, except for a bone marrow transplant. Unfortunately, I waited on the donor list for two and a half years, without a match. Today, my doctor told me it was too late, as I was in the final stages. My symptoms are increasing in frequency and strength, and it's only a matter of time before...." He stopped in mid sentence, breaking down in tears. He sat back down, trying to hold himself together, when someone slipped their arms around him and held him tight to them. When he opened his eyes, the conference room was emptied. He bolted up, panicked. "Relax," a voice said from behind him. "They're just on a ten minute break. You'd be surprised how many cancer patients take up smoking after it's terminal." James turned in his seat, and saw the young girl from Dr. Saeed's office by the coffee machine, pouring sugar into a mug with a rainbow on it. "I'm Sarah, by the way. Good to see you're awake." "I fell asleep?" James suddenly realized he couldn't remember anything since introducing himself. "Yeah. Don't worry about it. It happens quite a bit here. Best sleep some people get in a long time. I did it when I first came here. Slept through the whole meeting." "Was it you? You held me, didn't you?" "Yeah. I knew it was the best thing for you, right then. I know what you're going through; I've got CML too, four years now. I'm not in the blastic phase, like you are, but I've had it so long I'm the most senior here. Funny, since I'm still the youngest, too." "Four years? Most people don't...." "... Don't make it past two or three. I know. I guess I'm special. Even Dr. Saeed is amazed at how long I've lasted." "You... you were the girl I saw in the waiting room today." "Yeah, I recognized you, too. I knew all about you just by the look you had when you came out into the waiting room. There's a lot of that look here." She waved her arms around the room, spilling a few drops of coffee on the light brown carpet. "Anyway, the meeting's almost over. They'll let me take you out for some dinner. I'm guessing you're pretty hungry. Think you can keep it down?" The dinner was actually hospital cafeteria food, which wasn't as bad as James remembered it from his frequent visits. He had a small salad, as he was a vegetarian, and she had a ham and turkey sub with a bag of dill pickle flavored potato chips. She sat across from him, mostly staring at him as he ate. "Not hungry?" James asked. he finished the last bit of salad, then washed it down with some coffee. "I'll take it home, I guess." "You should eat; you never know when you'll be able to eat it again." "Tell me about it. I told all my friends that the best thing about this stupid leukemia is that it keeps me skinny." She grabbed the front of her black sweater, pulling almost half of it into a bunch, revealing a very small frame underneath. "How much have you lost? I'm down fifty pounds in a year." James prodded himself in the stomach, feeling the tight muscles underneath. "I've managed to keep it down to twenty, twenty-five a year, but I put most of it back on between chemo treatments." James noticed how short her hair really was now, barely enough to reach her eyes, if she hadn't wore it spiked. He felt his own hair, quite sparse and unkempt. His was even shorter than hers, as he had his last chemotherapy treatment only two months ago. "I hate how tired it makes me. Some days I don't feel like getting out of bed, and those are good days. I just lay there on some days and watch the ceiling. Did you know there are one hundred and twenty eight ceiling tiles in my bedroom?" Sarah's eye's widened suddenly. "Oh my God! Do you live in Katherine Towers?" She asked. "Yeah, how did you know?" "My bedroom has the exact same number! Sixteen by eight!" "You live in Katherine Towers too? Which apartment?" James suddenly felt very excited for some reason. "Twelve Twenty Five D. You?" "Five Fifteen C. The tower beside yours!" James smiled as Sarah giggled loudly. He looked about the cafeteria; they were all alone again. "Sarah, I want to thank you. You've been the greatest help to me tonight. I really appreciate it." He took one of her hands in his, and kissed it softly on the knuckle below the middle finger. Sarah blushed a bit, then exaggeratedly, she did a curtsey in her seat. In the large courtyard with two tennis courts and two basketball hoops, between four large apartment buildings that looked identical, underneath a large night sky with a sliver of a moon and the pink haze of city lights, James and Sarah said goodnight to each other, holding each other in their arms, both near tears. James promised to be at each meeting, and Sarah promised to visit tomorrow after school. Finally, James held Sarah close to him one last time and kissed the crown of her head before they went to their separate apartments. Chapter Two Sarah's mother was strikingly attractive, and looked almost like Sarah would with longer hair and curves. James didn't recognize her at first, because of the hair and the added weight, which she wore quite well. James invited her in, offering a cup of tea or some soda, both of which she declined. "I've come to talk about Sarah." "All right." James watched her as she sat down at his kitchen table, her hands folded in front of her. "I know you mean a lot to her, and quite frankly, I think it's great that she has someone she can talk to about this... more than she could talk to me, anyway. I mean, there's only so much I can talk to her about without, you know, having the disease. Even in two weeks, I can tell that you've been the greatest friend she's had and all, but... I think she thinks she's in love with you. She talks about you all the time, and everything she says about you is just glowing. I just... I don't know. I'm afraid that... if you died, she'd just fall to pieces. I know I would if she died, and no matter how hard I try, I can't accept that she's not going to be here much longer. I can't tell you not to see her; God knows that that would be worse for her than anything else, but... I just wanted to tell you that. I'm just afraid she couldn't take it again." "Again?" James asked, sitting across from her now. "About a year ago, she made friends with a girl about your age. She had ovarian cancer, and during an operation to remove a tumor, she died when she started bleeding. Sarah was absolutely shattered. She didn't eat or come out of her room; she almost died, I think. It took her months to open up again, to go to her meetings. I just don't want to see it happen again, because I don't think she could take it if you died on her too." "So what do you want me to do?" "Just make sure that she knows that you're... you know, dying. I'm sorry if I'm being a bit blunt, but Sarah loves you, and as happy I am that she's happy again, I couldn't take it if she had her heart broken again." "I think she realizes what's going to happen. I see it when she talks to me; I see it in her eyes. She knows I'm going to die, and I know it too. I don't think it'll be such a shock to her; not to be taken away suddenly like her friend. I think she's strong enough to accept what's happening to me. I know without her, I'd never be strong enough." Sarah's mother nodded her head for a moment, her eyes fixed on the tabletop. Finally, she spoke again. "I think it's best that she's happy. Maybe you're right; maybe she's able to handle this, but I just thought that you should know how much you mean to her. Make sure that she can handle this. Make sure that she's not going to fall to pieces again. I think you can do that for her." With that, she stood and let herself out of the apartment. James remained seated at the kitchen table, listening again to what she had said as it echoed in the back of his mind. That night, Sarah brought over a Monopoly board and some popcorn. They played for a while, talking about anything except their disease. James was slowly losing to Sarah, when he mentioned that her mother had come over to visit that day. "What did she tell you?" "A lot of stuff. She's mostly worried about whether or not you could handle me dying. She told me about a friend of yours who died during an operation. She also told me about how you felt about me." Sarah paused for a moment, a flash of pain darkening her face. "Her name was Katherine. This apartment complex was named after her. Her husband was an investor in this area, and when she died, he named it after her, and helped build the cancer ward at St. Joe's. She was a lovely woman, and David, her husband, well, he was one of the nicest people I've ever met. They loved each other a lot, and when she died, I couldn't take it. It was just so sudden. I was so depressed, but David came and visited one day, and he showed me some old pictures he'd taken of her and the children, and I realized that he was trying to tell me to move on, and just be strong. It took a while, but I realized that he was right; I finally learned to accept that she was gone. I miss her still, and I think about her everyday, but I'm not burdened by her death, I just keep moving on." She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, then continued. "I know that you and I are going to die sooner or later. To tell you the truth, I'm having a hard time picturing you gone, but I know that it's going to happen, and I won't give up again. I'll miss you too, terribly, but I know you'd never let me give up." She was interrupted by the telephone. James didn't move for a moment, but sat across from her, watching as she wiped more tears from her face. Finally, he stood up and picked up the cordless that sat next to the couch. He listened for a moment, saying nothing but "Hello," and after a moment, smiled. He handed the phone to her, then sat on the couch, watching her as she listened. She smiled just as he did, then started crying completely. She hung up the phone, then jumped up and hugged James. "They've found a donor!" She sobbed. "A donor!" James kissed her goodbye on the cheek, then waved as she was wheeled into the operating room. Her mother was sitting next to him, trying to read a novel, but staring at the clock instead. "It'll be a few hours," James said. "Let's go get something to eat." They were in the cafeteria, alone, sitting at the same table that James and Sarah had shared over two months ago. James didn't eat anything, as his nausea was barely containable, and he was too tired to stand very long. Just dragging himself down to the hospital had been a chore. he was very thin now, having lost fifteen more pounds since first meeting Sarah. Both Sarah and her mother were concerned about him now, and even James knew he was close to the end now. Sarah's mother ate silently, watching the clock over James' shoulder. After eating, James went back to the waiting area outside the operating room as Sarah's mother went to the lobby to make a few phone calls. James waited until Sarah's mother came back, then curled up and went to sleep. He was shaken awake a few hours later by the doctor. Sarah's mother had also fallen asleep beside him, and was just now rubbing her eyes. the doctor stood above them, looking grim. "I'm sorry, but we were unable to perform the transplant." James sat at home now, re-reading the report for the hundredth time. Two days ago, during the operation, it was discovered that Sarah had entered the blastic phase, the same as James' stage, and her white blood cell count had skyrocketed. James knew exactly what she was in for, as he had lived it for the two months. One day it would be nausea and anemia, the other would be joint pain, fever and vomiting. On very special days, it would be all at once. He sat alone now, reading the report again, hoping that somehow the words would change and say that everything was all right. A knock on the door snapped him out of his trance. Even before he opened the door, he knew it would be Sarah and her mother. They stood outside, in the dark gray hallway with plastic plants, Sarah with her backpack and Sarah's mother behind her, arms wrapped around Sarah's shoulders. Both were crying, but Sarah managed a smile. James ushered them in, but Sarah's mother stayed outside. "I just wondered if it'd be all right if Sarah... stayed the night tonight." She bit her lower lip, then turned to the elevator. James looked at Sarah, then shut the door. Sarah stood by James' couch, holding her backpack in her hands. "Should I just leave this here? On the couch? Or should I just put it in the closet...?" Her voice trailed away. She was quite pale, and trembled slightly as she stood. James took her bag and set it down on the couch, then pulled her into his arms, kissing her on the crown of her head, where he knew she liked to be kissed. "I was wrong, you know." She said. "I thought that I could handle it if you were gone, but now... I'm not so sure." "Is this what you want?" He said as he rubbed her back softly. "I love you, James. I know you love me, too." "I do, Sarah. I just want you to be sure about this." "I'm sure." She looked up at him for a moment, then placed her lips on his, feeling the warmth of his kiss and the comfort of his embrace. James closed his eyes for a moment, feeling no more illness, no more pain or sickness in his stomach. Just her. He led her into the bedroom, both her hands in his, looking into her eyes and seeing her smile. He sat down on the bed, feeling strength he hadn't felt in almost a year now. He let her go for a moment, then stood up again, close enough to her that he could feel her breath on his throat. He kissed her forehead, then stroked her cheek with his hand. He slid his hands to her waist, then began pulling her shirt over her head. her skin was almost white, and her body was frail and thin, but she was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He unsnapped her bra, uncovering her tiny breasts, then he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off her waist, then her panties. she stood before him now, naked, trembling and scared. He smiled again for her, then removed his shirt and boxers. They embraced again, kissing and holding each other, feeling every inch of the other's body. James broke their embrace, holding her hands in his again. She smiled, then lowered herself to the bed. He took her in for just a second, then gently laid himself on top of her. Again they kissed and embraced, touching and holding, stroking and feeling. Finally, Sarah opened herself to him, pulling him tight to her as he made love to her. James moved slowly, not wanting to hurt her, and not wanting it to end, ever. He loved her more than he'd ever thought possible, and wanted to relish every moment, every touch, every thrust. When he could go no further, he slowly slid back, still kissing and holding her as he gently moved faster. Sarah breathed harder and became more aggressive, wrapping her arms and legs around him, pushing her tongue into his mouth and arching her back to meet his thrusts. For the first time she felt loved and beautiful and healthy and wiser and ecstatic. James was the perfect lover for her; gentle and soft, touching her in exactly the right spots and saying all the right words as he whispered in her ear. Soon, Sarah felt a warm tingle she'd never known before, reaching from inside her up her spine and all over her body. She arched her back one last time as the tingle exploded in her and she screamed his name as they came together. The next morning, she woke up in his arms still. She felt radiant, and being in his arms comforted her. She turned to him, still sleeping. She kissed his lips and paused. They were cold and dry. She sat up, not wanting to believe what everything inside her said, but it was true. James had died in his sleep that night. Sarah watched him, hoping it was all a mistake, hoping he'd take a breath and sit up and tell her he loved her and how they'd be together forever, but he didn't. She cried for hours after the coroner took his body away. Her mother held her as she'd held him when he cried so long ago at the meeting. Sarah tried to be strong, but she couldn't help but think of him and how she'd loved him. The funeral was the worst. Sarah barely held herself together as all of James' friends and family sat around her and asked how she knew him. Sarah just smiled and told them that he was the greatest friend she'd ever had, and that he meant a lot to her. Sarah only told her mother what they did the night he died, and her mother just smiled and said, "I know." It was two weeks later that Sarah was at his grave again, laying flowers for him at his tombstone. She sat next to it and began talking, not knowing why. "I miss you, you know. More than I thought I could stand, but I'm making it. I miss your kiss, that goofy smile you get when you try not to laugh, that way you always knew where to kiss me. But I miss your touch the most. I wish more than anything that I could feel your touch again, and maybe I will, after all this passes. When we're wherever we end up, I want you to just hold me forever. I'll know I'm in Heaven if I see you again. It won't be long now, James." Sarah died a month later. Sarah's mother and David and most of the people from the cancer group attended her funeral. She was buried next to James, and everyone there talked about how special a friendship they had, and how tragic it was that they didn't have so long to live and grow old together, but Sarah's mother, during the eulogy, said: "I think that they were brought together for one last chance. they loved each other, they were the best of friends, and they helped each other when they faced the darkest path, and I think that they're together right now, having a good laugh, without pain, without sickness and without fear. Sarah, James; wherever you are, I hope that you're together, and that you're making each other happy right now." Legal Stuff: This story is the intellectual property of the author. It is free to use, provided: 1. It will not be used unless it is available without cost. 2. The story is credited to the author by name (Oke). 3. The author gives consent, written or otherwise. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+