THE BIG C BLOG HOP FOR MELISSA BRADLEY - My cancer story, After the Storm.

Hi everyone!

Today is a sobering post. I responded to the call on Michael de Gesu's blog to write a cancer story to be included in an anthology. All sales will benefit blogger Melissa Bradley's fight, as with losing her job and undergoing chemotherapy, the cost of staying alive is sky high. She  needs our help. There is also a medical fund to help raise money for the expensive treatment. Go here if you feel you could spare a few dollars for Melissa.

Melissa is fighting cancer with a very upbeat spirit, a heavy dose of sass. I admire that as I follow her journey on facebook. Now, Michael and Melissa would prefer funny stories, and I tried, but funny and cancer is like an oxymoron to me. We have the choice to be inspirational and uplifting too, so I think my story fits somewhere around there.

The story came to me as I lay in bed thinking about Melissa, then thinking about all the lights in the house for our various electronics. That got me started...and I always like to write about the beach. With a bit more time I may have polished this to say exactly what I wanted it to say about the beach/thunderstorms/journey, and I know it doesn't quite. However, I hope it's entertaining and fits the bill for the cancer anthology.

Perhaps you could suggest ways I could improve it for the anthology. I'd love that.

AFTER THE STORM

That night, a thunderstorm struck. 

Sitting up in bed, Ellie clutched her hands over her heart, pushing it back into her chest. Each clap felt like the judgment of an angry God. But she was the one who was angry. At God. And scared. Her own ragged breaths, in and out, in and out. She leant forward and smothered her face in the pillow beside her.

Thunderstorms were her biggest nightmare. Or her second biggest. Her biggest was losing Steve. But…how could all that power in the heavens not strike her little home, sending what was left of her shattering to the four winds?

The wind moaned, rattling her windows, driving sheets of rain against the glass. A bolt of yellow struck the old wreck near the beach, sending sparks to the heavens. Would she be next?

Night turned to day with another humongous flash. Outside, the waves crashed again and again, eating hungrily at the rocky headland. Tomorrow the beach would be different. The dunes would be pushed back. The torn grasses and broken branches would be floating adrift on the tide. 

Everything looked different in the morning.

What a night!

There was a time when Steve held her. With his strong arms around her, she always felt safe. But now the terror was hers to deal with alone. Steve was gone. Two years ago today. She should have died with him. Anything but being left alone here by the beach, in a house that could topple into the water with the next gigantic wave, just like she wanted to topple out of her life…

Between lightning flashes, her room was as black as the inside of a cave, especially when she squeezed her eyes shut. The fear on her tongue was a metallic fluid, killing her drop by drop.

Was this all that remained of her life? Cringing in her bed, paralyzed by fear, alone?

She opened her eyes. No. It wasn’t pitch black. There were flickering lights throughout her room—the white light from her modem in the corner, her mobile phone flashing messages in blue pinpoints of light, her laptop showing green, fully charged—comforting her, showing her that life goes on. She wasn’t completely disconnected.

Staring at the flashing lights, it brought Steve’s hospital room into full focus,  and the terror threatened to overwhelm her again as it did that night. The machines beeped, the lights flashed, the green figures showed what was happening, until, finally, there was just a long green flat line…

They dragged her away in the end. They didn’t understand that she couldn’t leave Steve there, all alone. Doctors, nurses, social workers—all tried to reason with her, but who could reason with someone who had lost her reason for living? She couldn’t take it; she’d died with Steve, just like she’d lived with him. Twenty years together. That’s a lot of years to get over.

Another thunderclap sent her darting under the covers. She held the sheet over her head and prayed. Please God, take away my fears…of thunderstorms, of being alone, of unbelief. Forgive me for thinking You didn’t make me strong enough to go on. I will go on. Starting now.

Maybe her beach house would fall onto its knees into the water, but that was out of her control, like Steve’s cancer. Maybe she’d have to move away, start a new life…whatever. She would if she had to. Steve would have wanted that. He’d whispered to her before he left her: ‘Wipe away those tears. Don’t let cancer claim us both.’

Her phone beeped. She checked the messages. Several, all from the same person, Tom, the coastguard who lived in the next cottage:

YOU OKAY?

She messaged back:

I WILL BE.

 Please click on the links here, on on the badge in my sidebar for other cancer stories. Monday 15th is well underway in Australia, so you may have to wait until tomorrow for most of the posts.

Thank you for reading my story.  Please consider posting a story if you can manage it. I'm sure the anthology will take some time to be collated.

And any suggestions for improvement, I'm open.