Story Life Life lessons fiction Cancer

He Entered The Room With A Yellow Envelope That Probably Had Death Written All Over It

( words)
*For representational purpose only.
“Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.” ~ Albert Camus

The staunch smell of antiseptics was filling my nostrils. I always wondered how people get cured here, the smell alone can make a healthy person sick. I think it's a conspiracy by the hospitals to make money by forcing people to smell the odour and thereby making them sick. If I expose this conspiracy I can become famous, my name will be all over the news; I will be a f***ing celebrity instantly. God this is crazy, I always wanted to be famous — like walk the red-carpet with beautiful girls all around me. While I was smiling at my own thoughts, she whispered in my ear, breaking my chain of thoughts.

"I have seen people who are stupid, but trust me I have never met anyone as stupid as you. What the f**k are you thinking, celebrity, beautiful girls. Do you even realise what kind of a shitty situation you are in? You are 29 and still a virgin. In the next 5 minutes we will come to know if you will die a virgin too." Zeeniel was my all-time sarcasm queen, whatever be my dream, she'd end up bringing me face-to-face with the harsh reality that's called 'life'.

It's alright but once in a while I could think of myself as someone I'm not, why does life happen all the time, can't I just take two minutes out of my miserable 24 hours to imagine myself as a celebrity, a scientist or an action hero?

"Please stop invading my privacy, it is against the basic laws of decency, you cannot just come in and read my thoughts. It makes me feel uncomfortable! How would you feel if I keep on reading your mind and giving my expert comments?", I retaliated.

"I'm a ghost and I can do more than just read your mind and for your own good I would suggest that you not force me to show you," she answered with an evil grin on her face, exposing her perfectly white teeth. Even when trying to be evil she managed to look beautiful. I was so much in love with this beautiful, wannabe evil spirit. While we were in the middle of our own fight, both of us failed to notice that we were not alone in the room.

There was a Chinese dude standing at the door looking at us, or me, with a dumbfounded expression thinking who I was talking to. I wondered if he would mark me as mentally unstable on my report. He walked towards his chair with his gaze never leaving my face. He was a middle aged guy with small eyes and a balding head. I nervously ran my fingers through my hair. Looking at a bald man always makes me nervous at the thought of how I'll look when I start losing my hair.

The guy had a serious expression on his face. He was holding a big fat yellow envelope in his hands with a bold marking "Medical Report- Confidential". He parked his butt on his chair and kept his hands on the table. The grim expression wouldn't leave his face, making me nervous. Zeeniel was sitting on a chair next to me clasping my hands tightly. The air around me was heavy and my breathing became laboured and uneven. He smiled a little and I wondered if he was enjoying the nervous expression on my face and whether he will just throw the report in the air and say 'Yeeeea, you are alright, your report is clear." We'd then light a cigarette, share a few drags, and I will walk out of his office with a big smile on my face.

"How are you doing Samy, everything alright?" He finally spoke.

Get done with the pleasantries already and tell me what's in the envelope or do you want me to take it from your hand and read it on my own? I wanted to shout but I calmed myself for two reasons - first, I have limited knowledge of medical terms so whatever was inside the report, I'd probably not understand and second, I was scared like a cat, I was not ready to face reality. How can he even ask me a question like that, I had suffered three blackouts in the last one month, my best friend read my blogs but wouldn't talk to me, I have acquaintances in China but not a single friend to accompany me to the hospital, I am getting f***ed at work, and my tattoo is not healing properly.

Does he need more reasons to say everything is not alright, it's shitty and now the shit is piling up?

"You seemed to be lost, are you okay?" He asked me again.

I was pulled out of my reverie. Again the same thing dude. I wanted to say that I am not okay. But this time I decided to maintain my demeanour and smiled, giving him the answer he sought oh-so-desperately — "I am okay."

He smiled back at me and nodded his head. He stood up and came near my chair keeping his hands on my shoulders, pressing them lightly. In a normal situation I would have imagined him as a homo giving me subtle hints that he wants to get laid. But I guess sometimes life plays with you so hard that you can't just joke anymore; with Zeeniel inside my brain I dare not even think of a joke - her sarcasm had a killing edge to it.

He took a deep breath and said "I think you should spend some time with your family, they will be happy to see you." He continued after a slight pause, "We have your report and what I am going to tell you now is not good." Zeeniel tightened her grip on my hands. I could see the fear was clouding her face and although I could not see my own expressions, I knew the colour had already left my face.

To be continued..

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