Nurses surrounded her, keeping her frail body motionless and inserting fluids. After less than a minute, Dr.Grey revealed the piercing truth to Mr.Brent. Almost all her cells were now infected. She would not survive. I felt groggy, my vision becoming blurry with tears. There on the hospital bed, I saw a pale version of my friend, knowing that the pain was tearing her apart. I could picture the tightness in her throat as if her lungs were surrounded by metal bands, unable to breathe properly. As her delicate eyes caught a glimpse of me, I froze, losing control over my thoughts.
“Maddie!! No!”
But all she responded with was a smile, the biggest and last one I ever saw. It was over. Her eyes that once danced with light were now vacant and staring. My lips trembled as desolate tears ran down my cheeks. I burst out screaming! Mrs. and Mr. Brent knelt down wrapping their warm arms around their baby girl, now in another beautiful world.
Maddison Brent was a beautiful young girl who was diagnosed with Neuroblastoma cancer stage 3. I can still vividly picture all the unforgettable times we’ve cherished, making each moment of her last days special. Our hilarious conversations and fun adventures. I had shared a similar fate with her, except it was nothing compared to her pain and side effects. A year ago I met with a car accident which left me partially paraplegic. I was immobile and even rehabilitation wouldn’t have been of much help to the destruction done to my body. It had ruined my lifelong dream of becoming an Olympic gymnast. The depression and agony that took over my feeble body left me in a black mood for months. I felt helpless, so frustrated until Maddie came along my path. I met her at one of my hospital visits when she came for her third round of chemotherapy treatment. She had azure eyes, rosy cheeks, lank lustrous hair and the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. The wait had kept us for quite a long time there and we engaged ourselves by having a conversation, which never quite ended. From then on, we frequently visited one another. Although she was six years younger than me, we really enjoyed each other’s company. Maddie wasn’t like an ordinary friend; she really appreciated everything about me and allowed my true personality to open up whenever I was with her. There was something so unique about her smile. A warmth, a genuineness, a softness of spirit, that it was my beacon of light guiding me through the tunnel.
Occasionally, the kids at my school used to bully me because of my paralysis.
“Look everyone! Layla’s got a little handicap! Your a 15-year old baby wimp!”
The seniors used to push me off the wheelchair and then guffaw at the sight of me struggling to get back up with my half broken body. I screamed as a result of the scrutinizing pain and agitation. These were some of the ugliest situations I’ve faced proceeding the accident. But Maddie was always by my side supporting me, lifting me back on to my wheelchair and wiping away the sobs. Events like these shattered me, but she put the pieces back together with her tender love and kindness, which made our bond stronger than ever.
We shared beautiful memories throughout that year like going to the beach and splashing cold water on each other’s faces; Trying to imitate some of the funny doctors at our hospital. Painting each other’s faces and hanging them up on the walls. Decorating her garden with our favorite flowers, white poppies, and roses. These special moments made me realize how lucky I was to have Maddie become a part of my life.
I never actually realized how serious Maddie’s health situation was until one day her dad informed me that she had been admitted to the St. Joseph’s hospital because of her sudden vomiting the previous night. My heart had sunk. As days passed by, I was anxiously waiting for Maddie’s return. But unfortunately, that day never came. Restless to see my friend, I decided to visit her. When I first arrived, I didn’t realize it was her. Maddie looked gaunt and very weak. Her eyes were heavy with tears and her face appeared sallow. Almost all her hair had fallen off. I noticed her abdomen swelling, and as she spoke, I could hear the dullness in her voice. She had just gone through radiotherapy and was due for immunotherapy. I began to visit her more often, bringing flowers and her favorite dove chocolate; reading her poems and fairytales. I could see the perseverance in her till the very last day, forcing a smile every morning, no matter how much pain she was going through. That’s what I admired about her.
Then the day came….I had to let go of the only best friend I ever had. It was the most painful process i ever went through. She was so deeply etched with the lines of laughter and love, it seemed almost impossible to let go of her cheerful spirit. Maddie taught me a lot throughout our journey together and I will never forget her gumption and perseverance. A young child whose life was much more painful than mine taught me to look at the optimistic side of life.
She inspired me to always stay strong.
