A Little Bit of Joy

A Little Bit of Joy

last updateПоследнее обновление : 2022-09-03
От :  wiggly subuПолный текст
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Joy Jones was a seventeen-year-old kind and optimistic girl working in her grandpa's flower shop, but she had a secret. She was suffering from acute lymphoblastic leukaemia and wanted nothing, but to die peacefully. That was until Logan Kellerman, a young man with suicidal tendencies came storming into her life and stole roses from her grandpa's flower shop. Instead of running away with what he came for, he found himself falling deeper and deeper into her as she made his heart skip in delight, for she was, in her own words, a little bit of Joy.

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Chapter 1

The Boy Near the Bridge

"Yo, you dead?" Jamal asked suspiciously through the phone and I laughed quietly.

"Not yet. Are you waiting for my death to whisk away my signed Katy Perry sweater?" I teased.

"Hell yeah!"

"I know, so after my death, my sister won't get it. It'll be all yours," I announced and for a moment, I swear I heard him squeal.

"How many more days you'll live?" he asked between his noises of pure excitement which made me smile.

"Dunno," I mumbled and suddenly, I heard my mum call me from behind. Our entire family had gone to a family restaurant nearby for a delicious lunch. I suggested that we would go for a walk after lunch, so here we were, aimlessly strolling on the bridge.

"Your mamma near you? If she heard that I'm secretly wishing for your death, she'll castrate---"

"Relax, she didn't hear a thing," I whispered and pressed the phone above my chest to inform mum, "Maa, I'm going a little further! You guys can go home!"

"But honey---"

"I'll be fine! I just need fresh air!" I shouted and quickly walked further to put some distance between my family and me.

My family, especially my mum was always lingering around me and I didn't quite blame her because I could drop dead any second. Any second.

Okay, I was exaggerating, but then sometimes I felt particularly low and when I started to feel nauseous or exhausted, I felt like I was dying. It wasn't true though. I still had some months to live and I was grateful for that.

"White chicks are crazy," I heard Jamal mutter under his breath since he had always been very scared of my mum and I snorted.

"My mum is half Asian---"

"And half white."

"Fair enough," I admitted and we remained silent for a while as I hunched over and stalked on the deserted bridge. The road bridge was constructed over our town's wide river, a major water source for many of us. It had a thick, black railing of either side to serve as a barrier. Occasionally, one or two cars passed by, but this flyover was mainly isolated during noon.

My mind was occupied by tense thoughts spinning around, the harsh noise of the river water and the gales swishing, creating absolute mayhem. There was a prolonged silence until I heard Jamal's voice.

"Let it all out, I know you won't call your fireman unless you need to be rescued," Jamal said in a sassy tone, proud of knowing me too damn well and I sighed.

"Well . . . Shaun got an internship abroad and will finally do something productive, but maa is not allowing him. She says that he needs to stay home and spend some quality time with his sisters, to look after me since I have some months left," I elucidated and Jamal just hummed in response. "So . . . What do you think?"

"I ain't got any say when it comes to your mamma, you deal with her your way 'cause she's always right," he replied nonchalantly and I shook my head in self-pity.

"Alright, knew you would say that-oh wait," I paused when my gaze flickered to a tall figure standing at the edge of the bridge as if the figure was ready to leap. I inhaled deeply and rushed through my words impulsively, "Listen, Jamie, there's kind of an emergency situation here. Call the cops and send them to the bridge over our town's river. There's a boy who might commit suicide."

I didn't know why I jumped straight to a conclusion, but the strong feeling in my gut screamed that the boy wasn't some daredevil, but depressed. A delay in my call could lead to death and perhaps I was being reckless, but better safe than sorry. Besides, the aura around him was plain glum.

"Holy shit---"

"Not now, Jamie, I-I'm serious," I hurriedly cut him off and hung up the call, praying desperately that Jamal would take this earnestly and actually call the cops. I could call the cops myself, but I didn't have the time. I bolted towards the boy who was dangerously balancing himself on the edge of the wide railing and my heart raced. His right foot dangled like he was mentally preparing himself to plummet down to his death.

My life would be over in some months, but not his. He was young and probably healthy- at least physically. He had a long way to go and he couldn't destroy himself now.

"Hey!" I called out while approaching him and he visibly flinched. I should have been more sensitive and vigilant since the negative result of this confrontation would lead to death. Suicide. Right in front of my eyes, I would witness a life getting squandered, just like that, within a snap of fingers.

I couldn't let that happen, I just couldn't.

I clutched my fleece jacket and yelled unceremoniously, "I-I won't let you die so easily. I can't do that, I'm sorry, I just can't . . . And if you jump, I'll jump right after you and I'm not even kidding. You see, I have cancer, so it doesn't matter if I die now or later. I'll be your mirror- you jump, I jump. You die, I die, as simple as that."

I did feel guilty for addressing my own problems when I knew that he was suffering from his own set of issues. I even regretted my choice of words, it sounded so selfish and I couldn't believe that I was blackmailing him.

The boy turned around slowly and I held my breath, afraid his feet might slip. His crestfallen ashen face was pale, his dark hair tousled and limp against his forehead and his sea-coloured eyes glassy and red-rimmed. He looked so vulnerable and raw like he would break down any second. I was glad that I could catch his attention since his hands were balled into fists as it almost seemed like he was waiting to hear me out.

"You see-see this scar." I pulled down my t-shirt a little to show the port scar below my collarbone and pointed at it, unsure if he could see it. "It's from chemo. I don't have a choice, but you do. You have a choice to save yourself."

I didn't know the reason which drove him to take such an extreme step, but I could only assume. Failed grades . . . Failed relationships or major issues like drug addiction . . . Alcoholism . . . However, the boy looked innocent enough to confirm that the reason was probably the former than the latter. Anyway, the reason didn't matter for now. What mattered was for him to not take such an extreme step.

I could see his legs wobbling and cold sweat trickled down my forehead. His gaze was averted to the ground and it seemed like he was in deep thought. Suddenly, my phone rang and in panic, I accidentally answered the call.

"Aye---"

"Hush Jamie . . . Listen, I'm trying to talk to that boy, to see if he can understand. Don't disturb me and just call the cops," I hissed and glanced at the boy who cocked his head, staring at me.

"Oh, he's still there . . . Boy, what are you doing?" Jamal raised his voice in bewilderment so the boy could hear and continued, "Don't do this. Listen to the blondie girl who probably pulled her cancer card out. She's right, although she's blonde and dumb."

"Alright, there's no time for this nonsense---"

"And boy, it's not going to be easy, but you'll eventually move on man. Blondie girl will---"

"Shut up! Why can't you understand? Bye," I cut the call abruptly while he continued to blabber.

The boy seemed baffled as he gave me a perplexed look.

"Look, in any way, I'm not letting you jump. I-I can't . . . I can't see life getting wasted just like that. You have a long way to go. You really do even if it's hard to believe right now," I croaked and stretched my hand out. "Come down now, will you? Come on, please."

I noticed his Adam's apple bobble as his gaze was fixated on my stretched out hand, his eyebrows were drawn together in concentration. It seemed like he was battling an inner conflict with himself. I wiggled my fingers, encouraging him to hold my hand and get down. I had to be gentle with him and careful with my words.

"Come on, it's going to be alright. This will pass and you'll find yourself in a-a better position. There are so many people out-out there who love you. I know it's difficult right now and that's why I'm here. I'm here to help you and I do care about you. I really do care so come on now. You can do it. You're strong. I see it in you, honest to God I do," I whispered gently, a slight tremor in my voice which I couldn't suppress. He reluctantly held my hand. "Come on please, all will be okay soon."

My blackmailing methods hadn't taken me anywhere, but a few words of kindness did.

His hand was firm yet soft as I pulled him down hastily, afraid that he might change his mind and plunge into the river. He stumbled down and leaned against the railings as we awkwardly let our hands drop. My shoulders sagged in relief and I saw his chest heaving up and down. He was taking deep breaths as if trying to calm himself and my happiness of helping him to save himself was ephemeral when I heard the police sirens. The boy's alluring sea-coloured eyes widened in alarm, his gaze darting between me and the distant police car approaching us.

"I erm . . . called them so they could help you . . . " I trailed off and gave him a helpless look.

The boy's thick eyebrows furrowed, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he ran away with all his might, leaving my flabbergasted self to deal with the police.

* * *

A/N :

So guys, hope you liked this chapter! I promise it gets better further lmao. 'Ma' will be written as 'Maa' throughout the book. Also, JJ calls Jamal 'Jamie,' it's just a nickname. This book will be messy, but by the end, everything ties togetherAlso unfortunately I wrote this book years ago when I

wasn't aware of the negative

connotations

associated with "committed suicide." I apologize

for that term's

use in this book. Feel free to leave your constructive views and opinions.

[Link for suicide hotline: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines]

Please please ask for help when you're in a difficult

situation. There are people who care about

you and love you even if it doesn't seem like that now. You will get

better, you all deserve to be healthy and happy. I know it's easy for me to simply leave a note here, but I insist that you reach out whenever

you're feeling hopeless. And

I wish you all the best <3

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75
The Boy Near the Bridge
"Yo, you dead?" Jamal asked suspiciously through the phone and I laughed quietly."Not yet. Are you waiting for my death to whisk away my signed Katy Perry sweater?" I teased."Hell yeah!""I know, so after my death, my sister won't get it. It'll be all yours," I announced and for a moment, I swear I heard him squeal."How many more days you'll live?" he asked between his noises of pure excitement which made me smile."Dunno," I mumbled and suddenly, I heard my mum call me from behind. Our entire family had gone to a family restaurant nearby for a delicious lunch. I suggested that we would go for a walk after lunch, so here we were, aimlessly strolling on the bridge."Your mamma near you? If she heard that I'm secretly wishing for your death, she'll castrate---""Relax, she didn't hear a thing," I whispered and pressed the phone above my chest to inform mum, "Maa, I'm going a little further! You guys can go home!""But honey---""I'll be fine! I just need fresh air!" I shouted and qui
last updateПоследнее обновление : 2022-06-10
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The Boy who Stole Flowers
"Good morning, Uncle Desmond!" I greeted cheerfully with my usual smile. "Lilies for your wife?""Aye, JJ," he said warmly with a grin that highlighted his wrinkles.I handed over the silver-packed lilies to him which every day he religiously presented to his wife. Thirty years of zealous marriage and each day he brought flowers to his wife without fail. If I ever had a chance to fall in love with someone, I would have liked a love story like Uncle Desmond's. Keyword: If.The bells chimed as one after another regular customer poured in to collect their flowers. Some for the church, some for their wives, mothers, and sisters, some for decorating their houses, offices, and stores while some just perused through the bunches of dainty flowers, enjoying the fragrance and freshness of morning bliss.At noon, Grandpa drove the truck filled with a stock of spry, exotic flowers and unloaded them in the shop. Many summer weddings were coming up which meant more business. It astonished me on how
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The Boy Called Logan
I was sprinkling water on the peonies, daffodils, and tulips to make them look fresh since they wilted very quickly during summer. Only sunflowers seemed glowing as they appeared to respectfully bow their heads towards the rays of the mighty sun.I saw through the spotless glass door, a familiar tall figure walking briskly with a loping stride outside the shop. From the past week, we always managed to cross paths. Our eyes met today and suddenly, his pace increased like he was almost running, trying his best to avoid me."Hey, flower thief! Wait!" I shouted to catch his attention while hurrying outside, but he didn't pay any heed and continued to jog ahead. I quickly caught up and grabbed his arm. I was panting heavily and breathed, "I-I want to talk to you."He jerked his arm away from my grasp and grunted, "What?""Erm . . . Sorry for what happened the other day. I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm so very sorry . . . " I trailed off and then confessed in a low voice, "I was kind of
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The Grandfather Who Was Lost
The pot of sapling slipped through Logan's hands and crashed into tiny, million pieces, the mud scattering on the floor. Logan staggered back and I watched him, my eyes wide in alarm. He looked startled, fidgeting with whatever his fingers could hold on. His forehead creased as his eyes swept over the broken pieces and I rushed to his side."It's your first week here and you already created trouble! How even did you manage to do that?" I asked accusingly and he scratched his neck. "Wait . . . Did you see a worm in there?""No!" he replied so quickly, afraid of being caught and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "No . . . I-I mean that there was no stupid worm.""You aren't a very good liar, boy," I stated and my lips stretched into a wily grin. "You need to get over your fear for something as tiny as worms, it's really silly. Besides, you work here and now you'll see them every day. You have to toughen up. Thank God my grandpa isn't here or you'll be fired right away."He didn't say
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The Mother of the Dying Girl
"What are you digging from the side of the couch? Did you drop rice there? I told you not to eat on the couch! Now go and sit at the dining table!" my mum yelled at my little sister who looked startled and then quietly did what she was asked to do."Maa, can I borrow one of your dresses? I have that wedding thing to attend tomorrow," I said as I picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and my mum peeked at me from above her magazine."Yeah, of course, dear," she replied with a smile, her entire demeanour changing. "We can even go shopping to buy some new clothes for you--- ""No, no. I told you before also, I'm not going to let you waste any money on me." I bit into the apple and leaned against the wall. She looked conflicted, but I gave her a reassuring smile. I didn't want her to buy clothes which would only last till I'm alive. My sister could be given those clothes, but there would be memories of me attached and it would be unfair to her. I didn't want my sister to be sad.Suddenly,
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The Friend Who Looked Pretty
I stared at my reflection, not a pleasant sight, I knew. Granted I had blonde hair and blue eyes, supposedly striking features, but it was really not. Even when I didn't have cancer, I wasn't considered pretty, maybe average or little above average [depending on how I dressed] because my eyebrows were light, my forehead a little wide and the tip of my nose so sharp that it could be used as a weapon to stab people. Now add cancer to this entire mixture of absurd genes, didn't fit, right? Definitely not.I had no complaint about my eyes because they were fine, but over the years of battling cancer, my eyes definitely lost its sparkle. I had scanty eyelashes and a bit of hair on my head which barely reached to my neck [much better than when I was bald and roamed around with a queer wig on my head] and I had certainly gotten thin in all parts of my body, except my cheeks.My chubby cheeks made my face look rounder and my nose sharper than ever. I had become so pale with no presence of the
last updateПоследнее обновление : 2022-08-28
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The Boy who built sandcastles
"I, Katherine Joseph, take you, Simon Pritchett, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part," Eliza's sister Katherine said fervently and tears sprang in my eyes.I would never get to fall in love or get to dress in white while my mum and sister helped me with my makeup. I would never get to hear, 'you're a beautiful bride,' from my brother or get to walk down the aisle with my dad. I would never get to commit to a man, share vows, carry his children, bicker over trivial issues, go on holiday trips and grow old with him. I would never get to truly, madly and deeply fall in love with someone.I silently blinked back my tears and took a glimpse of Eliza seated on the left side in the front row, her hands clutching her fancy gown tightly. Although she tried to remain stoic, I could see her lips quivering and hands trembling. She didn't have to wallow in misery, she had eig
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The Sister's Fierce Protection
"Here are your lilies, Uncle Desmond," I said with a small smile and Uncle Desmond smiled back at me warmly, his eyes crinkling."Thank you, JJ, and where is your grandpa? That old man has completed seventy-five years and is still working as a young fellow, he deserves a celebration," he said playfully as his eyes twinkled in mischief. "Tell him that his friend's missing him.""Of course, I'll tell him that.""Yes, yes . . . Oh, how I miss those old days where we would just go to the bar, discuss women and sports over a couple of beers. War changed us and then marriage . . . How we both became men from boys and used to talk about being a good father to our children and a good husband . . . " he started reminiscing and trailed off, when he knew that he was going the wrong way- the death of my grandma. His eyes were teary as he let out a light laugh and gathered the lilies in his arms. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, JJ. Give my wishes to your grandpa and take care of him, he gets lonel
last updateПоследнее обновление : 2022-08-28
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The Boy Stuck Between Family
My dad, mum, Shaun, Gemma, Logan and I were sitting at the dining table, saying our grace. We weren't particularly religious, but we always prayed during occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, thanksgiving etc. Grandpa and his cousins had gone out to party at a local restaurant where they usually hung out because they had their own fun to catch up on so this left us with only my family and Logan. I expected Logan to grumble about how he had to endure the pain of sitting through the unbearable silence which prevailed because of my mum's and my brother's recent argument. However, he seemed to enjoy the silence since he looked like his usual self, awkward, but a bit calmer.We started to dive in the food which comprised of Vietnamese cuisine which my mum had specially prepared for grandpa since he used to always love what my grandma used to cook for him. Usually, at our home, we didn't have Vietnamese food because my sister couldn't digest strong spices like ginger, garlic, shrimp past
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The Boy Who Finally Smiled
"I need to fix them, Logan, I-I need to fix them all!" I felt myself slip into a state of hysteria because my body started trembling and I started laughing in pity. "It's all because of me, I have to-to fix them all! How can I die peacefully w-when my family's falling apart like that? How can I Logan?"Something snapped in me because I erupted into fresh tears and I couldn't help myself. I buried my face in between my knees and started weeping, my entire body shaking. I could taste the salty tears in my mouth as I tried to wipe them against the fabric of my yoga pants but to no avail. I couldn't stop my tears.I could feel Logan sitting stiffly beside me and I stammered, "I-I'm s-sorry for being s-so pathetic--- ""It's okay . . . Hush now," Logan hushed me and I could feel him rubbing my back, trying to soothe me. I didn't know he was capable of providing me with comfort since he was such a bum most of the time, but my body actually relaxed. I looked up from my knees and turned my ne
last updateПоследнее обновление : 2022-08-28
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