In the end, I did not heed Sabrina’s words and left Christopher. When I left, she cried bitterly and lightly punched my chest in protest. She swore that she would not care about me anymore after this. Then, she strongly said that I should not have let the man who loved me get away.
Yes, I’m an idiot. It was clear that Christopher’s heart was mine, and yet, I left him. It was cruel of me.
I begged Sabrina not to tell Christopher where I was going. She promised me through her tears and wanted to send me off, but I refused to let her. If Sabrina left too, Christopher would definitely become suspicious. He was a very perceptive man, and he would sense that something was wrong.
Yeringham was a beautiful small town. Unlike other cities, there was none of that urban traffic noise. It was a quiet and tranquil town located by the sea, full of beautiful, sun-kissed girls selling fishes and old fishermen always singing their old tunes. The entire town depended on the creatures of the sea for their livelihood.
In the daytime, a chorus of children’s voices reading out loud could be heard from the nearby school. It was a pleasant sound. Listening to their innocent voices seemed to wash away all the heaviness in my heart.
The small cottage that Darius had prepared for me was located beside a church. I was never really a believer, but after coming to this town, I went to the church to pray every single day. I prayed for the same things each time — that Christopher would be safe and happy… and at peace.
The priest of the church was an old man. He always told me that as long I prayed piously, my prayers would be granted.
However, for me, it did not matter whether what the priest said was actually true. After all, spiritual comfort was better than nothing.
I did not know whether Christopher was sad to find out that I had died, but I knew that he would slowly learn to forget me and try his best to put on a happy face for his friends and family. Maybe he would sometimes think of me in the middle of the night when he had trouble sleeping, but he would be fine. The living would always find a way to move on from the dead.
Sitting on this wheelchair with the sunshine warming me and the salty ocean breeze washing over me, I felt the vitality of the sea flowing through me.
Since I could not see with my eyes, I was used to moving through the world with my other senses. Although the world was dark to me and I could see nothing, I could still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and the softness of the grass beneath my bare feet.
Eventually, I learned how to walk and began to explore the town with a walking stick. Sometimes, I spent the day practicing braille or learning how to write again. Whenever I went out exploring, Jenny would come with me out of concern for my safety and call out if there was anything in my path.
I was very thankful for this kind-hearted girl. She stayed by my side during this dark period of my life and gave me comfort and encouragement when I needed it the most. On the days when I refused to take my medication, she would cajole me and convince me to carry on with this life.
Once, I wandered onto the school grounds, where the children were playing on the field. When they saw a stranger on the grounds, they curiously gathered around me and began asking me questions. I bent down and gently ruffled their hair and gave them the candies that I had in my pocket.
“Miss, you’re so beautiful! You’re the most beautiful lady we’ve ever seen!”
The children’s candid praise made me laugh out loud. Children really are such precious treasures, and they really do heal the soul.
Day by day, my body became weaker and weaker. In just three days, my vertigo had gotten worse. The medication no longer helped, and I began to throw up after eating anything. I leaned back in my wheelchair, feeling very faint. At that moment, I began to doubt what Darius had said.
The doctor had given me three months to live, but looking at how quickly my health was declining, I would be lucky to live another two months. Since I was unable to keep any food down, my body began to lack nutrition.
“Ms. Tanner, why don’t we go to the hospital in town? What else can we do about you being unable to hold down any food?” Jenny gently suggested as she cleaned up after yet another vomiting episode.
“This is such a small town; we won’t find any cure for me here. Let’s not even bother,” I rejected Jenny’s suggestion in a weak voice.
“We can still try our luck. It would be good if the doctor can ease your vomiting so you can eat more,” Jenny persuaded. In the end, I gave in to her, and we went to the hospital.
