CRIMSON OVERLORD - Season 3 Episode 38

The bright lights of the room reflected against every surface, the walls creating a sea of endless white. The hall seemed to stretch endlessly, revealing a continuous row of wooden doors. It was quiet, so different from the loudness at home. It was scary.

The girl squeezed Mr Cuddles tightly, running her fingers through his soft, brown fur. He was a gift from Mother, a reassuring presence for today’s visit. She watched as her mother paused before a wooden door, turning towards me.

Staring at the metal nameplate, her eyes halted over an unfamiliar word. Oncologist.

This is a hospital. She was here to get better.

“Don’t worry my star, it’s just a checkup. We’ll be home in no time.”

She glanced uncertainly at the door. Its presence seemed to loom over her, growing with every second. She squeezed Mr Cuddles tighter.

“You’re a big girl right? Turning double digits today! I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled at her, the gaps in her teeth glaringly obvious.

“You’ll have to be brave, can you do that for me?”

“Yes mother!”

Her mother and the doctor spoke in hush whispers, their conversation filled with countless of confusing words: chemotherapy; long-term; deterioration. The doctor’s eyes were kind as she nodded at mother, before turning towards her.

“Hi Asteria, I’m Doctor Meredith! To make sure everything’s alright, we’re going to run a few tests.”

“…am I very sick?”

Doctor Meredith knelt down, her eyes seemed to understand everything.

“I understand this is very scary but Asteria, I’ll do everything I can to make you feel better.”

She nodded, grabbing Mr Cuddles and smiling brightly.

She was going to get better she told herself.

…

“Happy birthday to you!”

Surrounded by the familiar comfort of home she was beaming, mesmerised by the incredulous sight. On the dining table was the most magnificent cake she had seen, decorated extravagantly in various hues of blue. At the top, a message was written in blue icing.

‘Happy 14th birthday, my star.’

It looked amazing. Her mother, who was never a baker, had poured her soul into the cake. Yet she couldn’t understand why her stomach churned at the sight of it. There was a tightness in her chest that burned through the air in her lungs. She gritted her teeth, pushing the sensation down.

“Make a wish!”

She squeezed her eyes shut. She thought about the joy in my parent’s faces, the tremendous effort they had placed into organising this celebration.

‘Please, I want to get well soon!’

She blew out the candles among the midst of cheers.

…

Her eyes flew open to the burning sensation of her lungs, an unbearable weight crushing her chest. Blankets tumbled messily in crumpled heaps to the ground, as she spluttered with every breath.

Trembling, shd pressed the red button beside her, filling the house with the high pitched shrieks of an alarm.

“Asteria!”

Warm gentle arms wrapped around her.

“My star, stay awake for me alright?”

“Jeremy, call an ambulance—we need to get her help, now!”

Her eyes drifted shut, as distant sirens echoed in her ears.

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…

“Shhh you’re alright, it’s ok.”

The sounds of a monitor became clearer with each second, as she was suddenly aware of the cold air forced into her lungs through the oxygen tube. Her mother’s warm fingers gently carded through her hair, a stark contrast to the chilly atmosphere.

“I’m staying this time, right?”

There was a hesitant pause of silence, before mother reached into her bag.

“Look who’s here! It’s Mr Cuddles!”

She stared at him. The thread on his arm was tearing, revealing glimpses of the white stuffing underneath. His smile was faded, the threads torn in multiple places.

“Get some rest, my star. Everything will be fine.”

The door slid open, before closing with a soft click. As the room fell silent, she grabbed Mr Cuddles, burying her face into his tattered fur.

‘It’s getting worse.’

“Happy sixteenth birthday Asteria!”

Her parents entered the room, speaking in hushed voices. Their faces were illuminated by the soft glow of candles, as the cake was placed on the bedside table.

“How are you feeling?”

She glanced at the monitor beside her. The multitude of tubes seemed to increase with every week.

“I’m fine.”

Her mother pursed her lips, reaching into her bag.

“Your father and I know you’ve been feeling down recently, so we hope you enjoy your present!”

In her hands was a sleek phone, no doubt the latest model available. She glanced at it, anticipating the sudden thrill of excitement.

There was nothing.

“You’re so strong my shining star, so keep pushing through!”

She flinched, briefly catching the reflection in the glass. She had a future once. Bright-eyed, carefree and full of dreams. She silently mourned her loss.

“Sure.”

Her father frowned, placing his hand over hers. It was awkward, like a single touch could shatter bones.

“Star, you’ll get better soon, I promise. It just takes time.”

In the faint light, Mr Cuddles was sitting by the foot of the bed. His smile had long faded as his empty eyes bore into mine.

‘Is this really… the life I want?’

“Asteria?”

Doctor Meredith entered the room, bursting with anticipation.

“Happy eighteenth birthday. You’re already an adult!”

She nodded, muscles protesting against the movement.

“I know it’s been hard, with all the treatments failing. However, there is one more thing we could try.”

A clipboard and pen was gently placed onto her lap.

“The success rate of surgery isn’t high—maybe around thirty-three percent, but it’s your best chance. Since you’re eighteen now…it’s your decision. I’ve informed your parents.”

“If it fails?”

“It could be a very long hospital stay, possibly your entire life.”

It wasn’t worth a life full of lies, with each word condemning me to a prolonged hell. She placed the clipboard in her hands.

“No.”

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Her brows furrowed, eyes staring deep into mine.

“Are you certain? You don’t have much time left.”

“I know. I won’t regret it.”

There was a long period of silence, before Doctor Meredith finally nodded. Her eyes seemed to soften as she smiled sadly.

“…Alright.”

She paused before the door, turning back towards her.

“I’ll have to tell your parents.”

The click of the door was jarringly loud.

…

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, before the door was slammed open.

“Asteria, do you understand what you’ve decided?”

Her father was shaking, his eyes demanded an answer.

“I don’t understand, if there’s even the slightest chance…”

Her mother’s hand reached for her hand, gently squeezing her fingers. Her eyes flittered everywhere, desperately searching for the optimistic, joyful daughter they once had. Deep down, she knew how much they cared. There was fear in their eyes, underneath all the confusion and anger. Yet she was collapsing under the weight of their stares, buckling under her selfish decision.

There were a million reasons she could say yes; sign the document and hope for better days. There was still so much she wanted to do. Nothing had ever hurt this much.

“I—”

Her voice faltered, crackling with the tightening of her chest. The pressure was back, yet it was so different from usual.

‘This really is it.’

And in that moment everything: the tears, the pain, the anguish she’d grown accustomed to, unravelled in a beautiful spiral of honesty.

“I’m…so sorry.”

She collapsed forward, shoulders shaking as her hands gripped onto the blankets. They were slowly becoming damp with each frantic breath, as she struggled to speak. Her parent’s worried voices were a distance echo, hands resting on hrr back with frantic instructions to breathe.

But they needed to know.

“It’s just—I can’t do it. Did you know? Everyday, I’m constantly in pain, it’s agonising. I don’t want to keep fighting.”

“And I know you must hate me, no doubt after everything you’ve done. I’m really thankful, but I’m ready to go. I can’t stand living like this anymore…”

She didn’t know how long she sat there for, sobbing and shaking in the arms of her parents, before my father spoke.

“Asteria, you are our precious star.”

More tears fell onto the damp blanket.

“We might be confused, even frustrated…but to hate you?”

Her father wiped at his eyes, as mother muffled her sobs into her blue cardigan.

“Never. You’re the best thing in our lives. We’ll always be here, no matter what you choose.”

The sound of sniffling echoed in the room, before mother reached into her bag.

“Your father and I thought… you’d like this.”

In her hands was a present, adorned with gold ribbons. Hesitantly, she peeled away the paper.

“You fixed him?”

“It was the most we could do.”

Despite the crooked stitching and dull eyes, Mr Cuddles was finally smiling again. Patches of fur had been replaced with a shade lighter, resulting in a discolouration.

He was perfect.

“Thank you. Really.”

Once again she was enveloped in the comforting warmth, with the most important people in her life.

‘You see Mr Cuddles, we’re going to be just fine.’ She told herself but not too long ago she died, taken by the endless suffering.