Before we start here, I want to put in an author's note and let you know that I am indeed a new author. My punctuation and grammar might not always be correct, but I intend to take classes to try and improve my skills. Even if my skills are not 100%, I hope that you will still enjoy my stories. I had quite a lot of fun writing them.
~Nyx~
Spending the rest of eternity within this white room is bound to be my fate. I always hear the beeping of the machines and the footsteps of the familiar nurses and doctors. I've been hearing them for three years straight without a break. I've eaten meals that reminded me of lunch at school, just way worse. My family doesn't even come to check on me anymore. The last time I saw them was when they paid to have me admitted here. I've been using whatever funds I had left for the past few years to try and pay to stay and receive medicine, but I've slowly run out.
If I don't find a solution soon, I'm either going to be kicked out and die on the streets or die in this hospital bed. I'm not getting any better, and I've been waiting for a bone marrow match for the longest time now. I've refused to do chemotherapy cause I don't want to ruin my body and possibly ruin my chance of starting a family in the future. I'm terrified that I'm just going to keep deteriorating, and there is nothing that can be done about it.
Years and years of searching through the list of donors just looking for that one match. I often dream about the surgery even tho I know when the time comes; I'm going to be a big ass baby about it. It's like when it comes to needles, beforehand I am lovely and calm, but as soon as it's about to happen, I freak out and start crying. I honestly thought I would get used to the needles with how much I've been poked and prodded but nope!
Every time I want to run away like a little bitch with my tail between my legs. I've had Leukemia ever since I turned 18, and I'm now 21, so that gives you a good idea of how this is kind of fucking up my life. Nyx Lyiora is what they call me, but Lyiora is sort of not fitting since I feel like I'm not even a part of my family anymore. I wanted to go outside today, but I needed to call one of the nurses in to take me. I haven't been able to walk in a long time as my condition continues to deteriorate. Being bed-bound is not as fun as it may seem to those who can't wait to get home to their beds.
I pressed the red button on my remote, which called in a nurse. I either get Chloe or Samantha cause they're always on duty with nothing to do. Instead of those two, a male nurse came. I have nothing against it; at least he was nice to look at.
"What can I do for you?" Norwegian accent, huh? Not too bad
"I'd like to go outside and get a bit of fresh air." He set up the wheelchair and helped me get seated.
"How long would you like to be outside?"
"As long as possible, I don't wanna be stuck inside all day." He nodded, and we proceeded to the elevator since we couldn't take the stairs. God knows that would be one hell of a bumpy ride just waiting to go wrong. When the elevator finally opened, instead of bringing us inside, he decided to talk to somebody—not going to lie, that kind of irritated me.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were at work with your father" the next thing I heard made my heart flutter.
"I decided to take a break from work for a little while," a British accent that wasn't heavy and instead was quite charming. I tilted my head up to look at him, but he already had his back turned and was leaving. That was unfair. We got into the elevator, and I was prepared to feel the sun on my skin again since it's been so long. The warm glow of the sun was the most comforting thing in the world ever since my mother died. My stepmother has changed my father into someone I don't even know anymore.
I desperately wanted my mother back so she could hold me and talk to me like when I was little. My mother and my father were in an affair cause my mother was married at the time. She married a guy named Nicholas who abused her constantly, and she found comfort in my father. He always came to her rescue, and she loved him dearly. I'm often told how much I look like her, and I wonder if that's true.
When I think of her, it's all just a big blur. I can't remember what she looks like anymore, but I remember how sweet she used to be. Nora was her name, and she was only 19 when she had me, but she had no regrets. However, once Nicholas found out I wasn't his, he was determined to hunt my mother and me down. So my father took me and my mother on a long time journey around England to avoid him.
Night after night, we would move from hotel to hotel, and sometimes we would end up sleeping in the car. While it was scary at the same time, it was a lot of fun cause I got to see things I never would've seen otherwise. I opened my eyes to realize I had been reminiscing for a whole 10 minutes.
"Are you alright?" I looked up at the man looming over my wheelchair with a look of concern on his face. He was pretty handsome, and he had the same English accent the man from earlier had. The brown hair and green eyes, the chiseled jawline, and well-defined features. I felt myself get lost in his eyes for just a moment before I snapped back to reality. His look of concern turned into worry.
"Ma'am, are you alright?"
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine" he sighed in relief and smiled.
"For a moment, there I thought I made you speechless cause of my looks."
"Ha! don't be so narcissistic; it's a bad trait," he laughed. This guy wasn't half bad; at least he has a sense of humor most others didn't.
"May I ask why you are out here? This is a garden for sick patients."
"Well, if you must know, I am a sick patient, a very sick one, sadly." I saw the look of concern and worry wash over his face again, ruining his excellent features.
"What are you sick with exactly?" Was he that concerned? Whatever, it's not a big deal if I tell him.
"I have Leukemia with no Donor match, and I'm not strong enough to handle chemotherapy."
"You said you have no donor match?"
"Not in the system, no" he seemed lost in thought for a moment before turning around and walking away. I was used to people cutting off the conversation after finding out about my condition. Not many people wanted to be involved with me in fear of getting infected. But, of course, only the brainless idiots would believe Leukemia was contagious. I looked up at the clouds trying to see if any would form some kind of shape. My mother would always point out the ones that made weird shapes, and it became a regular thing for us.
~Ein~
"Richard, I need your help" the young man looked at his brother, hoping that he wouldn't turn him down.
"That depends on what you want help with; I'm a father, you know."
"Yes, I know you're a father, but I want to try something.
"What exactly are you looking to try?"
"I want to be put on the donor list for bone marrow," which caught Richard's attention.
"Why do you wanna be a possible donor all of a sudden?" He was confused. His brother never spoke about being a donor cause helping those people wouldn't be beneficial to him.
"I want to help someone" Richard cocked his head, still wondering if perhaps his little brother had been possessed.
"You want to help someone? Where the fuck is my little brother?"
"I'm right here, you fucking dimwit! Will you help me or what!?" Richard stroked his chin and thought about it for a moment
"Alright, I can help you, but you have to let mom and dad know about your decision after we get you into the registry."
"Fine, just as long as they don't get in my way" he left his brother's office after finally getting what he wanted. That woman looked so pitiful but still had a fighting spirit that you don't usually see with sick patients who know they might die. She wasn't too horrible looking either, and if she recovered, maybe he could see her in all her glory. He could only imagine how stunning she would look, especially her body in each outfit she wore. He wanted her, and he wanted her desperately.
~Nyx~
I looked out my hospital room window, hoping that it would start raining. I wanted the world to look as gloomy as I felt at this very moment. Crying wouldn't do me any good, but I couldn't fight off the depression coursing through my body either. Part of me wanted to die, but another part of me wanted to stay and fight. Even if I die, I will at least die fighting and trying my hardest to fight off this wicked thing. A nurse came rushing into my room out of breath, and she looked like she had just run a marathon.
"What the hell happened to you?" She was leaning against the doorway, catching her breath, then she looked at me, and the words she said next shocked me
"Miss, we found a match." I felt like a bolt of lightning had just struck me.
"What match!? Who is the donor!? Are they willing to donate!?" I felt terrible bombarding her with all these questions, but I just needed to know!
"Come with me; he wants to meet you face to face" she got me back in the wheelchair and went down the hall into a conference room. I was sat at one end of the table while the donor sat at the other side to keep my distance. When I finally looked at him, I felt like my eyes were going to fall out of my head. It was that guy!? The guy who had the conversation with me earlier!? God, what are the chances!
"You must be Nyx Lyiora," I snapped out of my confused little world.
"I prefer just Nyx, sir" he nodded and proceeded to go through some papers.
"I can help you, but I do have a condition." A condition? Alright, how bad could it be
"What condition would that be, sir-"
"Ein"
"Right then, what condition would that be, Ein?"
"I want you to be my wife through this contract" he snapped his fingers, and what looked like his assistant slid a folder to me that held the contents of the contract. I was utterly baffled by this sudden proposal.
"You- You want me to be your wife?" He nodded, not saying anything else. I proceeded to read the contract thoroughly, so I knew exactly what I was dealing with. 'Party A and Party B will be married for a total of 3 years' alright, that didn't seem so bad.
"I just have to play the part of your wife, and you'll do the bone marrow transplant?"
"Yes, but only if you sign this contract and play your part" did I have no other choice? I wanted to say no every part of me was saying, 'don't do it!' But I didn't have an option right now. This was a life or death decision that was entirely up to me. It was just three years, three short little years; how bad could it possibly be?
"Alright, I agree," I wrote my name on the contract, and my fate for the next three years was sealed.
