OK readers- I wrote this piece in January, and at the time my girlfriend Yas told me that I should take it further.  I didn’t.  I really believed that I was done with the story the minute I posted it.  Now, I’m not so sure.  

So, I’m asking you guys to read it and then let me know what you think- is it done, or should I keep going?  

(To the paid subscribers- sorry for the repeat.  I’ve got some new fiction coming for you tomorrow.)

A Little Help From My Friends

Friends often swear that they will always be there for one another, that the bonds of friendship will last through thick and through thin.  In Jenna’s case, it was actually sick and sin.  She was about to put her friendships to the ultimate test. She was sick, and she needed them to help her commit a sin.

“I want you both to help me commit suicide”.  She slowly looked up from her penne pasta and Italian sausage.  What she saw was shock on the faces of the two women who meant the most to her in the world.  

Alice put her fork down and absorbed the silence, while Rita audibly gasped. 

“My cancer is back.  And it’s spreading like a mutha’.  I can’t do the chemo and the radiation again. It was horrible. Besides, the cancer’s so bad, it would probably be of little use.  I’ve decided it’s time for me to call it quits.  I want you guys to help me.  Correction.  I NEED you guys to help me.  I’m afraid I’ll back out at the last minute.  And this is truly what I want.”

Seconds stretched into minutes. Rita finally found her voice, and though she spoke in a quiet tone, the anger was unmistakable.  “You bring us to this posh restaurant to tell us that you want us to help you kill yourself.  Did you think we would behave ourselves?  No scenes, right?  Because Jenna The Control Freak can’t stand scenes.  I can’t believe this.  You did not just ask me to help you die!”

“Rita, please.  I didn’t know how else to tell you. I found out last week at my annual check up.  Remission was nice while it lasted, but it’s over for me.  The results are pretty clear.”

Alice remained silent, yet tears streamed down her face.  She twisted the napkin in her hands, which caused her knuckles to whiten.  

Rita’s eyes were dry, but her face was contorted.  The pain was evident.  “What does your husband have to say about this?  Why didn’t you ask him to kill you?” Her voice catches in her throat as reality sunk in on a physical level.

“Alex doesn’t know.  And he would never agree to it anyway.  He’s not strong enough to let me go on his own.  I’m all he has left.  We don’t have children.  His parents are gone. He has no sisters or brothers to see him through this.  There is no way in hell he will agree to help me.  You guys are it.  And I need you now, more than ever. Besides, we talked about this the first time I got sick, and you both agreed that you would do whatever it takes to see me through this.  Well, it’s going to take you helping me commit suicide.”

Jenna’s facade of strength started to slip away.  She looked like she was about to collapse in on herself.  It is then that her friends can see her frailty. She is sick, and has been for some time.  

“I’ll help you.” Alice’s voice was small but determined. She repeated herself.  “I’ll help you,  Jenna.  And so will Rita.”  She reached across the table and grabbed a hand from each friend.  Time slowed enough for them to absorb one another’s strength and determination, and to say “goodbye” in silence.

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