Even Stars Fall

The bright lights of the room reflected against every surface, the walls creating a sea of endless white. The hall seemed to stretch endlessly, revealing a continuous row of wooden doors. It was quiet, so different from the loudness at home. It was scary.

I squeezed Mr Cuddles tightly, running my fingers through his soft, brown fur. He was a gift from Mother, a reassuring presence for today’s visit. I watched as Mother paused before a wooden door, turning towards me.

Staring at the metal nameplate, my eyes halted over an unfamiliar word. Oncologist.

This is a hospital. I’m here to get better.

“Don’t worry my star, it’s just a checkup. We’ll be home in no time.”

I glanced uncertainly at the door. Its presence seemed to loom over me, growing with every second. I squeezed Mr Cuddles tighter.

“You’re a big girl right? Turning double digits today! I’m so proud of you.”

I smiled at her, the gaps in my teeth glaringly obvious.

“You’ll have to be brave, can you do that for me?”

“Yes mother!”

Mother and the doctor spoke in hush whispers, their conversation filled with countless of confusing words: chemotherapy; long-term; deterioration. The doctor’s eyes were kind as she nodded at mother, before turning towards me.

“Hi Asteria, I’m Doctor Ying! To make sure everything’s alright, we’re going to run a few tests.”

“…am I very sick?”

Doctor Ying knelt down, her eyes seemed to understand everything.

“I understand this is very scary but Asteria, I’ll do everything I can to make you feel better.”

I nodded, grabbing Mr Cuddles and smiling brightly.

I was going to get better.

…

“Happy birthday to you!”

Surrounded by the familiar comfort of home I was beaming, mesmerised by the incredulous sight. On the dining table was the most magnificent cake I had seen, decorated extravagantly in various hues of blue. At the top, a message was written in blue icing.

Happy 14th birthday, my star.

It looked amazing. Mother, who was never a baker, had poured her soul into the cake. Yet I couldn’t understand why my stomach churned at the sight of it. There was a tightness in my chest that burned through the air in my lungs. I gritted my teeth, pushing the sensation down.

“Make a wish!”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I thought about the joy in my parent’s faces, the tremendous effort they had placed into organising this celebration.

Please, I want to get well soon!

I blew out the candles among the midst of cheers.

…

My eyes flew open to the burning sensation of my lungs, an unbearable weight crushing my chest. Blankets tumbled messily in crumpled heaps to the ground, as I spluttered with every breath.

Trembling, I pressed the red button beside me, filling the house with the high pitched shrieks of an alarm.

“Asteria!”

Warm gentle arms wrapped around me.

“My star, stay awake for me alright?”

“Jeremy, call an ambulance—we need to get her help, now!”

My eyes drifted shut, as distant sirens echoed in my ears.

…

“Shhh you’re alright, it’s ok.”

The sounds of a monitor became clearer with each second, as I was suddenly aware of the cold air forced into my lungs through the oxygen tube. Mother’s warm fingers gently carded through my hair, a stark contrast to the chilly atmosphere.

“I’m staying this time, right?”

There was a hesitant pause of silence, before mother reached into her bag.

“Look who’s here! It’s Mr Cuddles!”

I stared at him. The thread on his arm was tearing, revealing glimpses of the white stuffing underneath. His smile was faded, the threads torn in multiple places.

“Get some rest, my star. Everything will be fine.”

The door slid open, before closing with a soft click. As the room fell silent, I grabbed Mr Cuddles, burying my face into his tattered fur.

It’s getting worse…

“Happy sixteenth birthday Asteria!”

My parents entered the room, speaking in hushed voices. Their faces were illuminated by the soft glow of candles, as the cake was placed on the bedside table.

“How are you feeling?”

I glanced at the monitor beside me. The multitude of tubes seemed to increase with every week.

“I’m fine.”

Mother pursed her lips, reaching into her bag.

“Your father and I know you’ve been feeling down recently, so we hope you enjoy your present!”

In my hands was a sleek phone, no doubt the latest model available. I glanced at it, anticipating the sudden thrill of excitement. There was nothing.

“You’re so strong my shining star, so keep pushing through!”

I flinched, briefly catching the reflection in the glass. She had a future once. Bright-eyed, carefree and full of dreams. I silently mourned her loss.

“Sure.”

Father frowned, placing his hand over mine. It was awkward, like a single touch could shatter bones.

“Star, you’ll get better soon, I promise. It just takes time.”

In the faint light, Mr Cuddles was sitting by the foot of the bed. His smile had long faded as his empty eyes bore into mine.

Is this really… the life I want?

“Asteria?”

Doctor Ying entered the room, bursting with anticipation.

“Happy eighteenth birthday. You’re already an adult!”

I nodded, muscles protesting against the movement.

“I know it’s been hard, with all the treatments failing. However, there is one more thing we could try.”

A clipboard and pen was gently placed onto my lap.

“The success rate of surgery isn’t high—maybe around thirty-three percent, but it’s your best chance. Since you’re eighteen now…it’s your decision. I’ve informed your parents.”

“If it fails?”

“It could be a very long hospital stay, possibly your entire life.”

It wasn’t worth a life full of lies, with each word condemning me to a prolonged hell. I placed the clipboard in her hands.

“No.”

Her brows furrowed, eyes staring deep into mine.

“Are you certain? You don’t have much time left.”

“I know. I won’t regret it.”

There was a long period of silence, before Doctor Ying finally nodded. Her eyes seemed to soften as she smiled sadly.

“…Alright.”

She paused before the door, turning back towards me.

“I’ll have to tell your parents.”

The click of the door was jarringly loud.

…

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, before the door was slammed open.

“Asteria, do you understand what you’ve decided?”

Father was shaking, his eyes demanded an answer.

“I don’t understand, if there’s even the slightest chance…”

Mother’s hand reached for mine, gently squeezing my fingers. Her eyes flittered everywhere, desperately searching for the optimistic, joyful daughter they once had. Deep down, I knew how much they cared. There was fear in their eyes, underneath all the confusion and anger. Yet I was collapsing under the weight of their stares, buckling under my selfish decision.

There were a million reasons I could say yes; sign the document and hope for better days. There was still so much I wanted to do. Nothing had ever hurt this much.

“I—”

My voice faltered, crackling with the tightening of my chest. The pressure was back, yet it was so different from usual.

This really is it.

And in that moment everything: the tears, the pain, the anguish I’d grown accustomed to, unravelled in a beautiful spiral of honesty.

“I’m…so sorry.”

I collapsed forward, shoulders shaking as my hands gripped onto the blankets. They were slowly becoming damp with each frantic breath, as I struggled to speak. My parent’s worried voices were a distance echo, hands resting on my back with frantic instructions to breathe.

But they needed to know.

“It’s just—I can’t do it. Did you know? Everyday, I’m constantly in pain, it’s agonising. I don’t want to keep fighting.”

“And I know you must hate me, no doubt after everything you’ve done. I’m really thankful, but I’m ready to go. I can’t stand living like this anymore…”

I don’t know how long I sat, sobbing and shaking in the arms of my parents, before my father spoke.

“Asteria, you are our precious star.”

More tears fell onto the damp blanket.

“We might be confused, even frustrated…but to hate you?”

Father wiped at his eyes, as mother muffled her sobs into her blue cardigan.

“Never. You’re the best thing in our lives. We’ll always be here, no matter what you choose.”

The sound of sniffling echoed in the room, before mother reached into her bag.

“Your father and I thought… you’d like this.”

In my hands was a present, adorned with gold ribbons. Hesitantly, I peeled away the paper.

“You fixed him?”

“It was the most we could do.”

Despite the crooked stitching and dull eyes, Mr Cuddles was finally smiling again. Patches of fur had been replaced with a shade lighter, resulting in a discolouration. He was perfect.

“Thank you. Really.”

Once again I was enveloped in the comforting warmth, with the most important people in my life.

You see Mr Cuddles, we’re going to be just fine.

I wrote this quite a while ago to experiment with some ideas I had, so the quality of writing might not be the best.