TELL ME SOMETHING TRUE

By Allison Cross [Winner: 2nd Place]

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Burnished mahogany with a large brass knob, the door resembles one you would see in a luxury hotel. The number seven hangs, rubbed to a shine. We had asked for this room; seven was Camilla’s favorite number. The door is heavy and glides without sound, allowing me to enter unseen. Floor-to-ceiling drapes have been pushed open, soft lemon, a shade darker than the carpet gracing the floor. The night nurse is tapping a message into her phone. Camilla, unmoving on the bed. I take a moment, a deep breath that pulls through my chest and then descends, dense and crawling through my stomach. I push it through my nose.

“It won’t be long, dear.” The nurse’s voice is low yet fills the room. Her phone has disappeared.

“We’ve been hearing that for days.”

She holds my gaze. “She’s ready now.”

I turn to the bed, ignoring the nurse and her words until Camilla and I are alone. I wish this moment were over. I want it to never end.

I sit on the edge of the bed, careful the sheets don’t rub against her skin. Even with high doses of morphine, the cotton touching her body is like alcohol on a wound. Matthew, her fiancé, has tied the ends of the sheets to each bedpost, forming a tent that provides Camilla with privacy without causing physical pain. Her eyes are open, eyelids heavy. The beautiful green-grey has disappeared, clouds of inky black. She stares at something behind me. I resist the urge to look.

Clinically blind, they told me. To be expected, they said.

It’s been weeks since I’ve heard her voice, months since I’ve heard her laugh.

Framed photos are on the bedside table. The two of us laughing; Matthew swinging her in the air. A plastic dancing flower wearing sunglasses, a stuffed elephant, and tulips in a vase. She is allowed to have flowers now. There are no more machines, no more buttons to push. No more neon lights, no more beeps through the night. Just the ominous drip bag above her head. The essence of Morpheus coursing through her veins.

Camilla’s mattress is in an upright position. If she lies flat on her back, she will choke. I run my eyes over her gaunt face, her wasted body. Twisted fingers. Desiccated skin. I search for my friend.

I bend my head to hers, my cheek pressed to her parted lips. When I am sure she is breathing, I study her face, stare into the abyss.

She’s still here.

We’re still together.

Every step of the way.

I take the washcloth that is folded beside a bowl of iced water. Service in this hotel of death. I hold it over her lips, let two drops fall between them. Not more than two, that’s all she can take.

I ache to put my arms around her, to run rows of kisses through the patches of her hair. My eyes are burning and dry. She has fought like a warrior, and I am so lost I’ve forgotten to cry.

I turn to the window, focus on the birds pecking the soggy ground. I stare until my vision blurs, until I am carried to another time, back when—

We’re sitting on a fire escape in Paris, sharing a cigarette. Tell me something true, Camilla said. I don’t remember my answer, only her smile, satisfied.

A lightning storm on the coast of Spain. Camilla, fearless and laughing, had run to the water, arms open as if to hold the sky. You’re insane, I shouted, but I followed her. She made me feel brave.

A sudden ripping sound, a guttural, primal cry.

My heart is tearing open, but it’s not me making this noise.

My head snaps toward Camilla. Skeletal arms, reaching for mine. Her mouth is open. Chin raised. Throat strained. Her eyes are shining, looking into mine. Seeing me, loving me.

For the very last time.

“Cami!” I cry. I’m reaching for the call button, desperate to save her, frantic for help.

But her hand grips my forearm. Her fingers claw at my skin.

Where did she get this strength?

“Cam?”

A high-pitched whistle, air sucked to her lungs. Eyes locked on mine.

Are they green-grey again?

She’s not blind. She can see.

She can talk.

She’s saying my name.

“Tess.” Eyes blazing, words piercing. “Don’t worry, little sister.”

Her head falls against mine.

The air in the room changes.

I let it settle around me.

My sweet friend, my fierce sister.

The gift you just gave.