Anastasia by A. Marie

Anastasia

Ifell asleep in a hard chair right beside Alex’s hospital bed. With a groan, I lifted my head from the palm of my hand as my eyes began to adjust to the light. I could hear my little sister’s voice, but it was just taking my brain a while to process her words.

“Okay, that sounds terrifying,” Alex said. With those words, I immediately snapped out of whatever trance I was in before I looked up at my sister. Her head angled toward me as she shot me a gentle smile. I couldn’t help but notice her cracked lips and the alarming paleness of her skin.

“Morning, my little emoji. The doctor is finally here,” Alex said. She had a great way of not showing how much pain she was in. If someone random were to walk in, they never would’ve been able to guess that her organs were dying.

“How do you come up with yellow things like that on the spot?” I asked, chuckling softly. My hands rose to my face just to make sure there was no drool on the side of my mouth as I tried my best to fix my hair. Then, I finally looked over at the doctor. He was a beautiful man—blue eyes, blond hair, white teeth.

“Hi, you must be Alexandria’s sister. Heard you snoring a little.” He chuckled, giving me a glance of those pearly whites. I smiled at him before turning toward my sister with wide eyes. She looked as if she were holding in a laugh as she watched the scene unfold.

“Yes, I’m Anastasia,” I said, reaching out for a handshake. It had taken a while for me to grasp the American custom of a handshake. I wasn’t used to that sort of thing in Australia.

“Anastasia. That’s a beautiful name. I’m Dr. Jacob Flores, your sister’s oncologist,” he said, looking into my eyes for a moment. Suddenly, Alex cleared her throat, leaving me to narrow my eyes at her.

“I was looking at her scans and her body is equivalent to that of a sixty-year-old woman’s,” he began.

“Okay, ouch. Just rip the Band-Aid off, why don’t ’cha?” Alex sarcastically exclaimed. A small chuckle escaped from me as he sent her an apologetic smile.

“When they handed me the scans, I would have never been able to guess that she was a seventeen-year-old girl. The cancer shouldn’t be attacking her organs so aggressively. I thought about removing the cancerous organs with a transplant, but that takes months. Months that she may not have,” he said.

My eyebrows pulled together as I processed his words. “Months that she may not have? What are you saying?” I asked, my hand instinctively reaching out for my sister’s. He had a sad look on his face, a look that was full of pain and sorrow. The only look in the world that I did not want to see coming from a doctor.

“Look―”

“How many months do you think she has?” I asked. He glanced down at Alex, who sported wide eyes and parted lips as she looked at him.

“Maybe we should go out―”

“How many months?” I demanded.

He let out a sigh before walking toward me. “Luckily, the cancer hasn’t spread to her kidneys. Once it does, I’m predicting based on the way it’s aggressively attacking her body and the amount of chemo she’s going to go through—I believe that she has two months. If we would have caught the cancer sooner, she would have had a better fighting chance. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it’s too late,” he said, his voice dulling in defeat.

My shoulders fell. I wanted to scream and cry, but I knew that I couldn’t do that in front of Alex. I had to be strong for my little sister. It wouldn’t be fair for me to break down. When my eyes met her coppery gaze, I had expected them to be full of tears. They weren’t full of anything. It had to be her overachieving mind attempting to find an answer to all of this.

“I’m sorry, but we are going to do the best we can to make sure that the cancer does not spread. There have been many patients that we predicted would survive for only four weeks and ended up living for ten years. We never truly know, we can only predict. Your sister is in the best hands possible, and I’m going to make sure that we give her the longest life we can,” he promised.

I hated how I couldn’t form words. I wanted to be able to say all the right things to make everyone feel better. The truth was it was always Alex who did that. I was the negative one, but Alex always remained hopeful.

The doctor’s eyes yearned for me to trust him. They were begging me to relieve my worries by having faith in the professionals. Little did he know, bad luck was common in our family. The second we open our hearts to having faith or putting trust in someone, we would end up being reminded of why that voice in the back of our head screamed at us not to.

“Thanks,” I gritted out, my voice shaking. I wasn’t sure what I was thanking him for, but the word flew out of me because it was the only word that didn’t sting.

“I want this to be easier for you, I really do. Trust me when I say that I’m giving this one hundred and ten percent, Ms. Smith,” he pleaded. He gave me one last look of sorrow and then proceeded to walk over to Alex. “I’ll see about starting you on that chemotherapy in about thirty minutes.”

After she nodded her head, the doctor turned on his heels and walked out of the room. I watched his retreating figure before my eyes shut tightly.

“You have work in an hour. You should go home and get ready,” Alex stated calmly, as if her oncologist hadn’t just told her that her world could possibly end within two months. It left me puzzled. How could she do such a good job at feeling so unbothered?

“Alex—”

She raised a hand, stopping my words. A frown coaxed my lips at the sight of her shaking her head back and forth. “No, my little taxicab, I don’t want to hear it. He said there is a chance I could live beyond that. I’ve always been a fighter. So, I’m going to need you to go to work, be normal, and just try not to worry so much about me. I’m okay,” she affirmed.

“I wish you would stop comparing my hair to yellow things,” I said, a chuckle escaping me to make up for the amount of sadness I was currently feeling. She smiled at me, beaming happily. Another thing that I loved about her was how happiness radiated off of her so effortlessly. I didn’t know what I would ever do without that.

“What’s the fun in that?” she asked, quirking up an eyebrow. It felt odd how she decided to avoid everything the doctor had said. I wasn’t sure if she was covering her disappointment with humor, or if it was because she truly felt hopeful.

“I wouldn’t go to work if I didn’t have to come up with some way to pay the electricity bill. It doesn’t feel right to be working, leaving you in here all by yourself,” I told her, running my hand through her hair.

“I promise that I’m okay. Please, just go to work,” she told me. I sent a forced smile her way before going over to grab my bag. I quickly shoved my phone inside of it. As I walked away from her and toward the door, I could feel something trying to drag me back. I wasn’t sure if it was guilt or if it was my overprotectiveness urging me to stay.

Just as I was about to turn around, Alex yelled out, “Leave!”

Smiling to myself, I walked out of the room. The doctor was standing behind the counter, conversing with the nurse, before his eyes caught mine. I wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but it didn’t look like it was good.

As I stood there, the oncologist made his way over to me. He was wearing a kind smile, but there was something in his eyes that didn’t quite match.

“Ms. Smith, are you heading out?” he asked.

“Yeah, I don’t want to, but I have to go to work,” I told him, narrowing my eyes. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

He sighed. “Her cancer has spread more quickly than we thought. She was having pains in her side yesterday. So while you were sleeping, we did a couple more scans of her body. The cancer has now also spread to her kidneys.”

“I have to go to work,” I whispered before walking past him and out of the hospital. There was a burning sensation lodged in my throat that spread to my heart. I didn’t want to lose Alex. I couldn’t be alive without her!

I quickly made my way to my car just as tears began to pour out of my eyes. My sight was so blurry from crying that it made it almost impossible to unlock the door. As frustration burst through me, I kicked the side of the vehicle as a sob ripped out of me.

“Ms. Smith!” the doctor called out. Turning toward him, I quickly wiped my tears away. I made sure to rid any evidence of my sorrow because I needed to be strong.

“It’s not safe for you to deal with all this stress by yourself. I’ve seen her records, I know that you’re only twenty years old, taking care of a seventeen-year-old teenager with cancer. It’s okay to see someone or lean on a friend in times like this. I’ve seen what this has done to families, I can’t imagine it for one person,” he advised.

“I appreciate your concern,” I told him, smiling sadly and successfully unlocking my door. After quickly pulling the car door open, I sat down in the seat, leaving him standing right beside my car. With the key in the ignition, I started it up. As he still stood there, I decided to roll down my window.

“You have a strong kick there, by the way. You know, I may not be an orthopedic, but I’d be more than willing to check your foot out if you need me to,” he told me, offering a kind smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I chuckled unenthusiastically. “Goodbye!”

* * *

“Girl,what’s got you so bummed out?” My co-worker, Liliana, had asked me while I was placing burgers on a tray. She stood right by me with her hand on her hip as she awaited my answer.

“My sister is probably dying of cancer, and I have to sit here and pretend that everything is okay. I just can’t stop thinking about her,” I answered honestly. She reached out and touched my shoulder. A small smile made its way onto her features. I looked over at her dark complexion and big bouncy curls that fell down her back. Liliana was a beautiful girl inside and out.

“My mom passed away from lung cancer when I was younger. She always told me to stay strong, so now I am telling you…stay strong, Anastasia,” she said, opening her arms. I walked into them, allowing her to hug me. Her hug was soothing me, calming me in every place my crying heart hadn’t stop its weeping. It felt like the hug a mother would give their daughter, but she was my twenty-year-old friend who could make me feel more at home than my actual home.

“I don’t even know how I am going to pay for everything,” I whispered.

She pulled away from the hug quickly before pointing toward a table of people in suits. “Okay, this is going to sound really crazy, but we should switch tables. That man over there,” she said, pointing toward a handsome man with loads of tattoos. One tattoo in particular that stuck out like a green thumb was the huge angel on his neck. “His name is Vincenzo Rossi. He has a half-brother who owns this huge underground club. My cousin works there and she just bought herself a mansion.”

“What could she possibly be doing at a club to make that much money?” I questioned.

“She strips, okay? It isn’t as bad as you think. If it wasn’t for how overprotective she is, I would’ve been stripping my way into Italian pockets as well. From what she tells me, Italians love them some black girl magic.” She chuckled.

“We can switch tables, but I’m not sure if I’m going to strip,” I told her, grabbing the tray she had already prepared for them. Nodding her head, she grabbed the burgers I prepared, heading over to my previous table.

Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the huge group of men. The second I made it in front of them, I could feel all of their eyes on me. Setting the food down on the table, I tried to pretend as if I didn’t feel all of them looking me over.

“Is there anything else I could get you guys?” I asked, my voice soft and full of nervousness.

“Anastasia,” one of the men had read my nametag out loud as he looked at my body. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I nodded while waiting patiently.

“Has anyone ever told you that you resemble a Barbie doll?” a different man asked.

“Leave it to you to play with dolls,” Vincenzo growled out in—what I would later come to find out as—Italian, irritation visible in his words before glancing down at his phone. I wish I understood what he was saying, but I knew no other language than English.

“Valentino Romano would love you. Valerio, leave his card for the girl,” the first man said. All of the men seemed to chuckle darkly. A rush of gratitude flowed through me. I didn’t have to do much to get offered the job, and it was almost like fate planted it in my lap. Finally, they grabbed their food and walked off.

When I glanced down at the table, there was a huge tip and a card with the words ‘Valentino Romano’ written on them. Biting down on my lip, I thought back to my sister. Without a second thought, I slipped the card into my apron. I’d do anything for Alex, even if that meant stripping.