THREE

CHAPTER THREE

Charlotte.

Two days had passed since the diagnosis, two days I had spent lying in bed wondering what the point of life was. It felt a little bit funny to me that I had never really pondered over life and its meaning or meaninglessness until now. I mean I was familiar with nihilism, absurdism and similar concepts, but now I was faced with my rapidly approaching end, I was experiencing an awful, stomach-churning existential crisis. I found myself avoiding thinking of the concept of time and how it was always in motion; I even avoided looking at any clocks at all. Online, I read a post that said "time isn't passing, we are" and almost hurled my phone against the wall. Every second that passed was a reminder of how little the time I had left was. A part of me thought I could finally do away with plans and societal expectations of what I should be doing with my time and just live to the fullest, but this sense of existential dread was so crippling, it felt like I could not do anything except go sink further into it.

Lucas wanted to take me bowling. This was rather shocking, even though I anticipated him trying to do everything to cheer me up since I got the diagnosis. He was texting a lot at random times, even at times you would expect him to be asleep. I felt touched by all this, but I did not want it. I wanted to be left alone, even for a little while, and I especially didn't want Lucas to mess up his routine for my sake because it would affect his pursuit of his career... and all for what? I would be dead in twelve month's time. I said no at first but he put some pressure on me, so I yielded. I might not have felt like it, but I could at least acknowledge his efforts by showing up I guess?

"There she is." He said when he finally saw me outside the bowling alley, trying hard to act as though my lateness did not upset him. As I walked up behind him, I saw him checking his watch while tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hey babe..." I said and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Sorry I'm late."

"Oh, it's not- it's nothing." He couldn't even lie properly. "Let's go in."

I was saddened by the fact that me seeing him did not do anything for me- it did not alter my mood or give me the dopamine boost I allowed myself to believe I would have. I felt just the same, wondering what I was doing here, what I was meant to be feeling.

"I told you I didn't want to come." I heard myself saying to Lucas in a grumbling tone.

"Come on, we just got here. You'll have fun. You'll see."

Usually, it was me doing the cheering up, with Lucas always having a mental breakdown from trying to maintain the best possible grades a med student could have and expecting me to pick him up and piece him back together every single time, as if I had it any easier. It felt strange now, him being the one saying something positive for a change. I always wondered whether it was even advisable for someone so cynical to be venturing into a professional field that dealt primarily with human lives.

"I don't even know how to bowl."

"You'll learn. Everything's just a matter of practice."

"What's the point of me learning it?" I asked while his back was facing me as he picked a bowling ball off the rack. He struggled not to but he sighed deeply, as though exhausted.

"Just... try to have fun, alright?"

"But I already told you, I don't want to be here. So am I trying to have fun for me or for you?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Charlotte. What's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me?" I asked, my voice rising a little higher with each word. "I'll tell you what. Pancreatic cancer! Can I go now?"

"My God! Do you have to act this way? The world's not ending, you know."

This statement hit me like a bucket of ice being poured over my naked back. He was not wrong, he was not wrong at all. The world was ending, but only for me.

"Charlotte, I didn't mean that."

"You're right."

"I didn't mean that, I swear-"

"No, you're completely right."

"What?" He looked around, suddenly conscious of the attention we had drawn to ourselves.

"The world is not ending." I said. "It's just like you said, but not for me. You'll be here. You still have a life ahead, so go live it. You should not be here now, Lucas."

"What are you talking about?"

"What would you be doing now- on a normal day I mean."

"I-"

"Probably studying." I helped him answer. "Or making research, or whatever it is you're always busy with. The point is you have somewhere to be, and it's not here with me... not with someone whose world is ending while yours is just beginning."

"Charlotte." He came closer to me, but I pulled away.

"I'm leaving, Lucas. I'm breaking up with you." My heart thudded painfully as I said these words. "Please don't hate me."

"Wait."

"Don't call me. At least not tonight." I turned and walked away.

"Charlotte-" He grabbed me but I wrestled his hand off, while mouthing 'please' to him.

And suddenly I was out on the road under the rain. I thought of waiting for a cab but there was none in sight, and there was a high chance of Lucas coming out to meet me while I waited. Tears welled up in my eyes as I walked and I was now grateful for the rain as I could now cry freely without people realizing. It was easy to break up with Lucas because he knew I was right. I appealed to his sense of logic, and his ambition too. He knew it was true that he should be elsewhere at that moment.

As I walked, allowing the tears to flow freely as the rain drops hit my face, I realized I did not really have a reason to live anymore and wondered why I was continuing.

"I could just throw myself in front of a car right now." I said to myself and stopped to consider it, looking out over the road, and I sensed a person closeby; it felt like they were walking alongside me but stopped as I stopped. Then his voice came.

"Ugh, that's awfully melodramatic... Just because of a heartbreak?" He walked closer to me, revealing himself from my blind spot.

I was frightened. Slightly panicky, I looked around and realized it was just us here, and I happened to be standing right in between two streetlights that were not functional. How did he even hear me?

"Who are you?" I asked, and followed up quickly with, "Stay back!" Well, so much for being ready to die.

He chuckled and kept walking till there was almost no space between us, and that was when I figured I had met this person before. There was something very familiar about his gait, his voice, the way he chuckled.

"You don't remember me?" He asked, his face only slightly illuminated by the headlights of passing vehicles. "I'm hurt."

"Who are you?"

He looked up at the dead lamps in the streetlights and scoffed. "Oh." Suddenly, he grabbed me and pulled me into the light of the nearest working pole.

"You!" I exclaimed with recognition. "You're stalking me!"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"What do you want?" I asked, and wriggled my wrist out of his grip. "Let me go."

He let my hand go and looked down at me with a condescending smirk. "I want to help you."

"What do you know about me?"

"I know you want to waste a good set of bones and organs on this pothole-ridden road."

"What?"

"Weren't you just fantasizing about suicide?"

"How did you even hear me?"

"I have a very good pair of ears."

I scoffed. "What do you want?"

"My name is Noah, and I'm the man who is going to save your life."

"I don't need saving." I said and turned away. "Please, go away."

"No."

"What?"

"No."

"I don't understand."

"You will soon. Tell me your name."

I laughed. The guts of this man. "Is this how you approach women?"

"I don't approach women."

"I can tell. It shows."

"Tell me your name." He said and took a step forward, his voice level but insistent.

Fine, I thought. "Charlotte."

"Why do you want to kill yourself, Charlotte?"

"I don't. You don't know me. Go away."

"No."

"I'm going to scream."

"That's going to hurt my ears."

I couldn't help but laugh. I was genuinely intruiged.

"I will go away, if you tell me your house address. I would love to come pay you a visit."

"What the fuck?" I took a horrified step backwards. "You know, I was giving you the benefit of the doubt, but now I'm convinced you're a creep."

"No, I'm not a creep."

"What happened to asking for my phone number, or social media?"

"I enjoy physical conversations, not the mere, fleeting dopamine that comes from text messages."

"Well, that's sad, because you're getting neither from me."

"That is sad."

"Don't follow me, mister..."

"Noah." He reminded me.

"Noah. Don't follow me."

"Okay."

"Okay? Well that's a welcome change."

"That's because I'm not in a hurry. We are going to meet again."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because... some things are just meant to happen. I'm not rushing. We have many years ahead of us."

This was particularly funny to me. If only he knew. "Yeah, right. Goodnight." I said and backtracked to make sure he was not going to follow me, but he just stood there in that spot watching and waved goodbye as I bent the corner.