Our Rooftop | Teen Ink

Our Rooftop

April 11, 2015
By cjuliann, Yulee, Florida
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cjuliann, Yulee, Florida
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Favorite Quote:
"I want to thank the sidewalks for keeping me off of the streets."


i.
It is almost 10 degrees outside, and she is wearing short sleeves.
She believes her imprudent decision-making is one of the many symptoms of Myocarditis, the unpleasant heart disease she was stricken with several months earlier, even if it is not scientifically proven.                             
She swings her legs over the roof of the First National Hospital today, like numerous days before. She has always preferred to detach herself from the frenetic rush of the hospital by relishing in the assuaging presence of nature. The moon, suspended like a porcelain doll upon the azure firmament, adds to the tranquility provided by the cobalt sea. The incessant chatter of the city helps drown the intolerable sounds of the hospital out, so she basks in it. She’s never felt so serene.
Looking down and seeing all the scantily-clad teenagers, with smiles frolicking upon their faces, makes her envious. She wishes to join in the activities they participate in, but she knows aspirations of doing such will forever be nothing more than ill-fated dreams, for she suffers from a vile heart disease.
So, she presumes she’ll sit on this roof until she is no longer able to provide oxygen to her sullied lungs. If her death is inevitable, why not die inspecting the life that could have been for her? For when she does so, it makes her feel more alive than she will ever feel. It makes her feel part of today’s corrupted society. And really, that’s all she wants. That’s the one wish she aspires to come true before she dissolves into thin air—just to be ordinary.
The stinging touch of one’s calloused hand is felt against her body, and it staggers her for a moment. “Eve, you’re going to freeze to death,” a hushed voice mutters behind her.
She detects the soft tone as Lucas, the boy with Leukemia. She looks at him, signaling she recognized his company, and turned back to gaze at the stars, the sight of him lingering in her brain, and their tactile encounter igniting a raucous fire in her heart.
“Did you tell the nurses I was up here?” she queries, a surge of anger unearthing itself from inside of her.
“I didn’t divulge your beloved secret to the nurses,” he interposes, “but, it’s likely you’re going to die from hypothermia at these frigid temperatures. So, does an actual heating system sound that grisly?”
“I’d choose hypothermia over going inside of that harrowing hospital.”
He sighs, realizing getting her off of this roof was going to be more complex than he bargained for. He decides to join Eve on the roof, and she swears the Earth trembled at his decision.  
Never, ever, should an optimistic and pessimistic person collide—especially, while on a roof. You see, the separation of the two types of people keeps the world balanced. But, today, right here, it happened. The one who thought life had just begun for him, and the one who knew life was over for her had seemingly found each other in this large world, and the Earth decided to put them both on a narrow roof together and see utter pandemonium unravel first-hand.
****
“We should really go,” Lucas pleads, minutes later. “We, out of all people, should try to avoid any sort of precarious position at all costs. I mean, we’re already in the hospital. Can we please use the perceptive minds we were blessed with and leave?”
“I have the right to believe the party I am having up here is far too boisterous for you to handle,” she sarcastically challenges.  “And that’s the real reason you’ve suddenly mustered up a fear of heights while on a roof.”
“This is no party, Eve. This is absurdity at its finest, and quite the stagnant get-together if even considered a party. And a fear of heights has been instilled inside of me since birth, but has since been propelled by my rash decision to swing my legs over a roof.”
“How dare you call my bash stagnant? Where have your manners gone?” She emits a dry cackle under her breath, “you have full permission to leave, Lucas. I wouldn’t want your fear of heights to become more severe than your cancer itself.”
  He sighs, “Every single fiber of my being is telling me to leave, but for some reason my feet won’t stop with the motion they have created. I am completely aware of the unwavering factors, particularly on this exceptionally windy day, but my feet won’t stop.” He gesticulates at the feeble twigs that were his feet, and a panicked expression crosses his face. 
  “It’s obvious that you remain up here because you think it’s very chivalrous of you to do so. But, I don’t need someone accompanying me at all times. Leave me to live the diminutive amount of life I have by myself. Please,” she entreats. 
“I’m not doing this because I feel empathy towards you, Eve,” he shoots, the harsh air evoking a slight wheeze out of him. He pulls off his polyester jacket and ensconces it over her body, “it’s foolish to be out here with short sleeves.”
Well, now you’re exposed,” she mumbles.
“I have thick skin,” he adds, a grin tugging at his lips. “I’ll be okay.”
  She nods and envelops herself in his jacket, tingling with his warmth, trusting his word that he’d be fine.
“This is quite the striking creation,” he sighs, after a couple moments of skimming the city. “I can remember how the bus stop always reeked of diesel fuel and cooked antifreeze. I recall always grabbing a bagel from the local coffee shop, and never thinking twice how valuable such a moment was.”
He leans back, scans the sea, and every single piece of matter that makes up the streets of this tiny town, and then penetrates his burnt umber brown eyes into her skin. “The weather is just going to get lower,” he informs, using all the strength his besmirched lungs had to inhale the brisk 11 o’clock air.
“The moon means so much to me, Lucas,” she murmurs. “Someone out there is looking at the same object in the sky as I am, and I don’t know why Lucas, but there is something extremely mollifying about that. Something inside of me can’t leave it.” 
  “There’s a way to look at your moon’s magnificence, without tainting its vivacity, that is not as perilous as dangling our feet over the edge of a roof.”
"You promise?"
"Hey, I have cancer. What else is there to live for?"
A smile plays at the corners of my lips, and the optimistic boy does the impossible—he gets the immovable pessimist to go back inside, into the place she anticipated with an unconscionable amount of horror. That’s when she decided something about this world had definitely been disturbed—she just wasn’t totally convinced going back was what she wanted.
***
 

 

 


 

ii.
The persimmon orange embers contained inside the fireplace squirm with great vitality, heating up the room in a matter of seconds. Nestled up in a blanket, she presses her face up against the chilled glass, and stares out unto the moon, its splendor not in any way spoiled by the interfering window. Moonlight floods through the open curtains, and the only sound for a couple of minutes is the unremitting buzzing of the flickering light bulb.
“It’s not much,” Lucas speaks under his breath, obviously feeling a bit ignominious for bringing her to a room with such low quality.
“It’ll do.”
  He scratches the back of his naked scalp and paces the room back and forth, much to Eve’s annoyance.
“Isn’t the medicine you’re on supposed to enfeeble you?”
“Essentially.”
“In that case, rest your muscles,” she orders, hauling a chair across the mahogany floor, collectively abrading it as she did so.
He does so, much like a dog sits when commanded to do so. He lasts a millisecond before he jolts back up.
  “Hot chocolate?” he proposes.
“What is so difficult about sitting down?”
“I just want to make hot chocolate.”
“Well, I can’t resist such a delicious offer.”
He chuckles softly, “Any specialties I should know about?” he asks.
“I fancy marshmallows.”
Minutes later, he traverses back the long hallway from the mini-kitchen, cupping two Styrofoam cups teeming with saccharine-sweet hot chocolate, and almost over-flowing with fluffy marshmallows.
She nods her gratitude, and vigilantly takes the cup from his hands.
“So, what’s been alluring your attention outside the window?”
She sighs deeply, “Well, for a minute it was just the moon and its dazzling effulgence. But, then my eyes started to wander to the streets, and to the teenagers. I want to be one. I want to be a photocopied, replica of the people who meander the streets underneath the jet black skies—polluted mind, dirtied soul and all.”
  “There’s ways,” Lucas assures, hurdling unto the cluttered couch, his eyes achingly tender.
“How?” she asks desperately.
  He immerses himself in deep thought. “We party,” he answers, shooting up from the couch with a great amount of fortitude. “Tonight Eve, we’ll live as if cancer is non-existent, and Myocarditis is a fictional term. By the nights end, we’ll be surrounded by heaps of cardboard pizza boxes, and our insides will be brimming with scalding hot chocolate, and it’ll be the most satisfying pain we’ve ever had to subdue. Tonight Eve, we both live, instead of merely existing.”
“That, my sick friend, sounds like a plan.”
***
“Yes, I want the pizza delivered to the First National Hospital, first floor, third door on the left,” Lucas reprises into the phone, his tone exuding increasing vexation. He takes long strides across the room, evidently frustrated with the man on the other end.
“No, we aren’t doctors. Actually, I have Childhood Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, and my friend here has Myocarditis, but should that hinder us from stuffing our faces with pepperoni?”
  The sly grin that slithers on his face seconds later tells me that something splendid must’ve been responded.
“And, the pizza should be here in ten minutes,” he states.
“All I want out of life before I die is a greasy slab of pizza,” she whispers under her breath, emanating a dry chortle.
“Why must you talk like that?” Lucas asks, rather livid.
“Because, I am dying.”
“Everyone is, Eve. But, meanwhile you’re still alive.”
“You don’t understand,” she quips. “I need a new heart, Lucas, and it’s not as simple as just buying it over the counter and getting it replaced. There’s an extensive line for a heart. I have come to terms that I am far too down the list to ever be recognized as a possible applicant for a new heart. The nurses expect me to keep a pager, just in case a heart does happen to come in. But, it’s pointless to carry such a thing around. Now, all I desire is to live as if I never had to go to sleep at night, with the echo of Mother’s wail circulating in my brain, because her precious daughter had been diagnosed with such a sadistic heart disease. All I really want, is to experience life with no worries at all.”           
“I remember seeing you the first day you arrived. Your crumbling mother could barely stand, but you seemed resilient. You know you were going to make it out okay, and I think that’s why you seemed so fearless from a perspective. Where did that optimism go?”
She stares down into her empty cup of hot chocolate, drowning in Lucas’s words; and she didn’t know how to swim, but for some reason it was okay—drowning in his words was bliss. And, she’ll never comprehend how someone so physically incapable, could be so sanguine, but she’ll tell you, his positivity made a fire blaze in her heart.
“The fact that my heart was slowing starting to languish finally sank in Lucas,” she admits, “and I just gave up. It was just too chaotic, deciding to stay that is. Because, there was so much reason to endure the pain, but it seemed easier to just let go.”
   The hollow knock on the door interrupts her thoughts. Lucas answers it, swiftly takes the pizza, and explains his reasoning behind leaving no tip (the debacle over the phone).
“Cheese?” he asks, hauling four large boxes inside of the abandoned room.
She nods lukewarmly.
He takes a bite into the scorching cheese, and looks at her uneasily.
  “I’ve guessed I’ve always been petrified of the idea of a new heart. It sounds like with it, I’ll be someone completely different, and that unnerves me.”
“You dangle your legs over roofs to see the moon, Eve. A new heart is nothing more than a night looking at the stars for you.”
  And with that, Lucas once again makes Eve feel invincible, and she realizes she could get used to such flattery. “Where's that slice of cheese pizza?" she requests.
***

Her burp comes to a rather resounding end after twenty straight seconds.
“You are the most wonderful being to ever ambulate on this Earth,” Lucas proclaims.         She guffaws over in laughter, something that felt rather revitalizing.  “Eve, you have made me feel more alive than I think I ever will in my lifetime,” he makes clear, sliding into the vacant area next to her, and marveling at the inanimate object in the sky along with her. “And tonight, you have donned a light on me that I didn’t know existed, and Eve, I think I may have fallen victim to one of the most horrific diseases in this Earth—more deadly than cancer itself.”
  “What is that?”
  “Love,” he drones slowly, cringing at the way it rolls of his tongue.
  “Oh, Lucas,” she voices, peeling her eyes off of the moon and on to him.
  “I am mesmerized by your eyes, and how they can change color within an hour’s notice. I adore how you will only drink hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, and how you have the ability to burp for an unnatural amount of time, and I love it. I love you,” he breaths.
  “Lucas. Love doesn’t exist for people like us, bound to death before the civilians that roam this Earth. We’re transported by a gurney, and our life is contingent upon what happens in a housing of people who are better off dead. Our feelings don’t mean anything, Lucas, when it comes down to the fact that you have Leukemia and I have Myocarditis, and we’re not normal—no pizza party can change our bounded destinies.”
She looks at him, succumbing to the intense pain she was feeling, and angrily swipes at the water droplets forming beneath her eyelids. “It could never be.”








 

iii.
Fatigued from sleep deprivation, Lucas had gotten up that morning to brew a cup of coffee and return to sulking in his bed room. He’d pursue the internet one last time for a time machine, or for some device to rewind time, but his efforts would end up ineffectual. 
As he waited for the coffee, he noticed hot chocolate packets, and individual packages of marshmallows adjacent to it. An agonizing smile crept from inside of him, and as incongruous as it might sound he couldn’t help but cackle.
  No matter what she did, or what she said, the after-taste she left on him would never be bitter. He grabbed the pot of coffee, and poured it into his coffee cup. After pondering the state of his coffee, he decided to leave it black. The unpleasant taste could mask some of the pain he felt from yesterday.
  As he turned around, a spunky blonde almost knocked him over, much like a belligerent football player would do to his enemy. He dismissed the accident, though, because he didn’t know the girl. But, when he felt a finger rapidly attacking him on the shoulder, his bewilderment got the best of him and he turned around, coming face to face with his infatuation.
“Eve?” he asked, completely astonished of the radiance she was giving off.
“Lucas, it beeped—by pager… it beeped. It was certainly buzzing around in one of my drawers today; I’m positive of it, and then it did so in my hand.”
  Lucas didn’t know how to react, for he was feeling so many things, that they all weren’t properly cooperating with his motor skills.
  Only listening to her heart, she wraps herself around Lucas, delirious with an overwhelming amount of emotions.
  “Eve, I have never been quite so captured by such feelings in my life,” he announces, a tear trembling onto her scalp. His voice breaks, and he weeps a little more.
“I will survive,” she mumbles, wiping away falling tears. “I just don’t think it’s my pager that helped me realize that.”
  Eve’s heart trembled and soared across her rib cage, “Lucas. I have fallen in love with the way you are physically incapable to stay still. I have come to notice that you can speak your mind when ordering food, and sometimes, in treacherous predicaments, you tend to have no control over your feet, and I love that. I love you.”
  Lucas looks at her, slack-jawed by the pivotal change in her.
“Love is as for us as much as it is for normal teenagers. Quite frankly, I kind of appreciate that our fates intertwined, here in this abominable hospital. And Lucas, if my pager hadn’t beeped today, I believe I still would’ve entwined myself into you, exactly as I’m doing right now, just because you flickered a new light on me—that is more brilliant than the moon.”
  He slowly reaches for her hand, his blazing body temperature adding a sufficient amount of warmth to her.
“And after today, Lucas, the thought of living excites me, and that’s something I never thought would happen again.”
  And, with that Eve, the girl who was oblivious to the fact that her name meant life, follows Lucas to the abandoned room, awaiting the presence of the moon together. Lucas could tell by the way she skipped more-so when she walked today, that a new heart already seemed to be inside of her.
But, new hearts desire the same things, and I believe Lucas will always have to go through the trouble of putting extra marshmallows in her hot chocolate for the time they remain in the hospital.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.

          






 



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