CHAPTER ONE
The leather of the journal was rough under my fingertips, worn from the constant and desperate handling from the last two years and still with no reasonable result.
Today was my twenty-fourth birthday.
But instead of feeling happy and joyful like how everyone else felt, it felt like a nail gun was repeatedly drilled into my heart, over and over again. It was painful, heartbreaking, It reminded me of how much time I had left and how much I was yet to see, how much of the world I was still missing.
I'd outlived my expiration date by 365 days. A whole stolen year. Every morning I woke up as a surprise and every night I slept with one wish in my heart, that I would live to see the next day, and so far my wishes have always been granted and still a part of me still knows that it won't always remain this way. The anxiety in my heart was killing me even faster than my condition. Every day was a trial, a war behind my ribs. Idiopathic Restrictive Cardiomyopathy. I could still hear the doctor's solemn voice as he said it, his face masks professional sympathy. "The walls of your heart are stiffening, Ms Vale…progressively worsening… unlikely to see your twenty fifth…"
No matter how much I tried to ignore it, the constant pain everyday was enough to remind me of what my reality actually was, 'a death sentence written in clinical jargon.'
And there was my list of like a hundred things I wanted to do before my heart finally gave up on me. Out of all the things I had listed I had only fulfilled like ten of them and those ten cost me a fortune, almost my entire life savings. Some pages of the list were filled with neat check marks, little victories I had snatched from the jaws of a life half-lived.
~Try oysters.~~ (i'd hated them)
~See the Northern lights.~~ (I've maxed out my credit card for a trip to Iceland. It was worth every single penny of debt I'd die with.)
~~Get absurdly, stupidly drunk.~~ (I hadn't fully done that yet, although I have had one or two drinks. I haven't gotten to the max of getting really drunk.)
I had done a few little things on the list for myself but I haven't fulfilled the big entries, the ones that truly mattered, remained starkly blank.
~Fall in love.
~Be truly known by someone.
~Make love.
A familiar, hollow ache spread through my chest. It was hard to check those off from my sterile apartment, surrounded by pill bottles and the ever-present, low hum of fear and also mainly because I was in my parents house, even the thought of a twenty-four year old still living with her parents was enough to be embarrassed about. It was not like this earlier, I was living comfortably as the single, middle class high school teacher but then I transitioned to living with them once again after I was diagnosed with this stupid condition.
I could vividly remember their faces when the doctor told them, even though they pretended to be strong, I could hear their subtle sobs every night. It killed me as much as it did them.
A sudden wave of dizziness washed over me as I reached for my cooling tea. My vision distorted, and I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles slightly turning white. I squeezed my eyes shut, riding the wave until it passed, my heart doing a frantic, skipping dance against my sternum. Not today. Please, not today.
The sharp ring of my phone cut through the silence. It was Chloe. "You are not sitting at home on your birthday, this year Ari," her voice chirped.
"Chloe, I really don't think–"
"Nope! No arguments. We're going to the obsidian, It's a one night exclusive. It's going to be so lit Ari, I'll be there in 15 minutes."
She hung up before I could even protest.
Even before I could think about it, my phone rang again, the call was from Chloe "Look alive! And wear something sexy, I mean really hot Ari!." With that she ended the call. Look alive. The irony was a bitter pill. But she was right, this was what the book was for, there was no way I could fulfill all these wishes by just sitting around. I wanted to feel a pulse, even if my own was faltering. I am going to fulfill every single thing on this list and right now I want to get stupidly drunk.
___________
Chloe arrived even before it clocked 15 minutes, she was looking stunning in her red silk dress, it hugged her curves just perfectly, as she got down from the cab, her hair swaying from side to side as she walked towards me. "What do I look too gorgeous for your eyes?" she asked, gesturing at herself, I shaked my head, as I cackled. "No Chloe, you look like a monkey covered in foundation."
"Whatever, then we are both monkeys covered in makeup. Are you just going to stand there? let's go. Girl with that dress and you looking all goddess like. I think you will mark every single thing off that list tonight." She winked naughtily
"Chloe, just shut up, you have such a dirty mind." I chuckled while walking back with her to the cab.
" It's not as if you are a nun either, Ari." She was right if there was any good thing having little time on earth has done for me was I was changing from the shy, quiet, innocent woman to a more open minded one. Tonight I wanted to explore just how open-minded I really was.
—-----------------------------------
The bass at the obsidian was a physical feeling, a vibration that traveled up through my bones, momentarily syncing with my erratic heartbeat. Strobe lights flowed perfectly with the loud, banging music, highlighting the glimpses of laughing faces, glinting glasses, and bodies moving to the sweet melodies so perfectly it felt normal to everyone there but me. I felt like a ghost at the feast, translucent and out of place.
I sipped the cocktail Chloe had thrust into my hand-something sweet and deceptively strong, just what was a starting point to me getting high tonight. I could feel the alcohol warm in my veins, a false sense of well-being. I was trying. Trying to feel the joy, the cheerfulness, to match Chloe's energy as she danced so energetically, jumping from here to there so violently. I wanted to do that too, but the press of the crowd was too much. The heat was stifling. The air felt thin. How on earth do people really enjoy clubbing, it felt like a nightmare.
I turned away from her to find a place to sit, the heat was getting too much, even though they were like a billion air conditioners I still felt this unexplainable heat from within. 'Don't parties like this have chairs, I could literally not find any' I rolled my eyes, still flashing false smiles to everyone around me and then something caught my eye or maybe someone.
Across the heaving mass of dancers, standing unnaturally still near a pillar, was a man. He was… more. Taller, broader, his presence carving out a sphere of quiet in the chaos. He wasn't dancing, wasn't talking. Just observing. His face was all sharp, impossible angles and a jawline that could cut glass. But it was his eyes that were even more eerie . Even from across the room, they looked like chips of cold steel.
Our eyes met.
For a split second, the music faded. The crowd blurred. A strange, warm sensation bloomed in my chest–not the painful, constricting squeeze of my illness, but a deep, resonant pull. It was terrifying and magnetic all at once. He held my gaze and the world narrowed to that single point of connection.
Then, someone abruptly bumped into me, breaking the spell. I blinked and when I looked back, he was gone. Vanished.
The spell was broken, and reality crashed back in with a nauseating wave. The music was suddenly too loud, the lights too harsh. My heart wasn't beating fast; it was fluttering, like a frantic bird trapped in a cage of bone. I couldn't breathe. The walls felt like they were closing in.
"Air…I need air, Chloe–" I mumbled, she was nowhere to be found, pushing through the bodies, my vision tunneling.
I stumbled out a side door, gulping in the cool, damp air of a back alley. The sudden quiet was a relief, but my body was betraying me. I leaned softly against the rough brick wall. The world titling on its axis. The contents of my stomach rose in my throat. The fluttering in my chest turned into a frantic, painful, pounding.
No, no, no. Not here.
This was it. This was how it would end. Not in my bed, but in a grimy alley behind a nightclub, alone.
This was it. The edges of my sight darkened. The world slipped away, sound first, then slight. The last thing I registered before the darkness swallowed me whole was a tall, dark shape of a man emerging from the shadows, moving toward me with an unnatural, stunning grace.