The End is a New Beginning

Morning light peaked through the spaces between drapes and shutters in the Penny household, causing Amelia and her husband Jackson to slowly wake from a rare night of restful sleep. Jackson yawned and stretched, turning toward Amelia as he reached out to lightly caress her face. The weight of the past few month’s circumstances had yet to flood their thoughts this morning, so both silently enjoyed their temporary reprieve.

Unbeknownst to the Penny family, in a matter of moments their lives would never be the same; a sudden crash from the upstairs bedroom followed by the family dog’s barking startled Amelia and Jackson, harshly snapping them back to reality.

“Kyra…” both spoke their daughter’s name in unison as they scrambled out of bed, flung open their bedroom door, and dashed up the stairs. Before them was the nightmare that had poisoned every new day and happy moment, an event that their family tirelessly prayed and willed would never come: the sight of their daughter’s lifeless body on the floor, wrapped in sheets as if she had fallen sideways off her bed while drawing her last breath. The family German Shepard, Franky, whined and barked as he tugged on the edge of fabric still left on the bed. Amelia fell to Kyra’s side, shakily placing her hand on Kyra’s neck and let out a pained wail.

“Kyra, no, this can’t be it…”

Jackson raced out of the room and grabbed the closest landline, begging for help and straining to speak coherently to the operator.

One Day Earlier

“Kyra, your chai tea latte is ready!”

“Thanks Easton, you always make the best lattes.”

The barista chuckled as he passed Kyra the warm drink, “Kyra, anything for you. See you tomorrow?” Easton winked and turned to the next customer.

Kyra smiled at the familiar exchange, took a moment to study the foamy heart decorating the top of her latte, and absentmindedly tugged on her beanie as she stepped out into the brisk autumn air, proceeding toward the Burke-Gilman Trail. In another life, Kyra attributed her love for cold weather to the ease of masking greasy hair days with a beanie. Now, the cold simply served as another unwarranted reminder of another piece of her that was lost to cancer.

The only time that Kyra really contemplated her fear of dying prior to facing her own prognosis was when she learned of her grandfather’s passing a few years prior. She sat with her father on the patio furniture staged atop their 3-story townhome overlooking Lake Union, a cigar that was expertly cut and prepared by him in hand as she proclaimed all the places in the world she wanted to see before her time came: The Great Wall of China, canals in Venice, and maybe even Austin, Texas while drunkenly stumbling with a future love down the bustling streets to hear live music and dance the night away.

However, Kyra’s thoughts did not turn to travel when the soft, pitying voice of the doctor explained how to best manage the stage 4 ovarian cancer ravaging her body. Instead, Kyra was overcome with the realization that she would cease to experience her favorite moments, places, and people when she passed. Thoughts of having cigars on the roof with her dad, breathing in the scent of pine while biking to meet up with friends at Fremont Brewing, and walking Franky around Green Lake with her mom while cradling a freshly brewed cup of coffee flashed before her in rapid succession.

Kyra sobbed and threw her chai latte as far as she could muster, collapsing on the path under the void of what was soon never to be. Nothing to remain from the present, no future to fill with dreams.

Hot tears streamed down Kyra’s cheeks as her anger then progressed into feelings of guilt and helplessness. In addition to tackling her health issues, Kyra knew her parents bared the responsibility of handling her grandmother’s declining faculties.

“Jackson, we can’t stay in this house. Mom doesn’t have much left in her savings now that she’s not receiving Dad’s pension anymore. I just wish we had a way to buy a little more time, you know? She’s still pretty self-sufficient, but she doesn’t have the money to continue staying there without one living social security check to another.”

Kyra secretly listened with Franky from the top of the staircase, taking the rare opportunity to hear an unfiltered conversation about the current state of matters for her parents.

Jackson balked at Amelia’s assertion, “I know we only have two bedrooms, but can we set your mom up with a murphy bed here on the first floor? I know she’s not good with stairs because of her hip. And…” his voice caught before continuing, “We’ve made so many beautiful memories in this house with Kyra.”

Amelia shuffled closer to him on the couch and grasped his hand, “Honey, I know, but even if we tried to set up my mother on the bottom floor, Kyra may not be able to manage the stairs in a three-story townhome for much longer. You know we will need a place without stairs and more space.” Before Kyra could angrily storm down the stairs to debate this decision, Franky laid his head on her lap and looked up as if to communicate that no matter where they were, he just wanted to be with her.

The prickling sensation from Kyra’s foot falling asleep brought her out of her thoughts and back to the walking path she had collapsed on. Thankfully, foot traffic was light for a weekday morning. Kyra did not want to explain herself or endure the pity party that typically came with having a breakdown in front of strangers. Despite her initial feeling of relief, Kyra became acutely aware that someone was watching her as she wobbled to her feet.

A woman with long silvery hair, lightly weathered skin, and steely blue eyes watched from a bench as Kyra pulled herself together. Gracefully standing from her spot, the woman began to approach Kyra.

“Hey, I don’t need any help. Not sure how long you were sitting there for, but I’m just going through a lot right now and needed a moment,” Kyra firmly stated as she attempted to pass the woman by walking in the opposite direction.

“Kyra, I may not be able to help you, but I have something that you may be interested in.”

Kyra’s stomach dropped at the mention of her name; how did this woman know her? She would have remembered a woman with such stunning cold features.

“How…”

“My child, I cannot reveal myself to you in any capacity other than to help you continue your journey, if you so wish.” Kyra remained still, heart pounding as the woman elegantly extended her hand to offer a small black notebook.

“I don’t understand…why are you giving me this book?” Kyra took a step back as she asked these questions, disturbed and questioning her own sanity.

The woman flashed a cunning and all-knowing smile before continuing, “Kyra, I believe it’s best to experience the magic that exists in the world around you rather than explain it.”

In an instant, Kyra found herself back in the same spot on the path that she had originally been, the prickling sensation unbearably persisting in her foot.

“That’s it, I’ve gone mental. Can I still get chemo in the looney bin?” Kyra franticly muttered as she braced her hands against the pavement to stand up once more; however, one hand pressed on something other than the ground below her. Kyra looked to down and was stunned to see the black notebook nearly underneath her. Grasping the notebook in one hand, she pushed herself up and hobbled over to the bench nearest bench.

Curiosity outweighed her fear of the mysterious woman as she opened the pages of the simple yet elegant leather notebook. The first page greeted her with beautiful calligraphy and a small velvet pouch shaped like a tiny envelope was attached to the inside of the front cover. Inside the pouch was a small gold magnifying glass, and this puzzled her as she did not need it to read the text on the first page:

Death is but a peaceful and welcoming being, although the methods of meeting her may be less so

Life is her remarkable counterpart, both expertly awful and beautiful

The magic lies in welcoming both simultaneously; the end is a new beginning

Your metamorphosis lies within these pages, but only if you are brave enough to look

Kyra traced the intricately written words, curls of black and gold ink expertly sweeping across the page. She did not know how to process this information; was this message suggesting that she might be able to still live through the book at the cost of her current life?

She found more writing on the next page and those that followed, but the words were much too small to read. Staring at the magnifying glass, Kyra thought it best to wait to try and read the rest of the book. If reading the rest of the book truly accomplished what she suspected, then she needed more time to consider her options. The thought of leaving her current life to discover how she may continue to live through this text was terrifying, but so was the idea of death by cancer.

Kyra did not realize how much time had passed, but her stomach’s angry growls indicated that it was time to find food and go home. Walking off the trail and toward home along a few side streets, she decided to grab a quick snack from the gas station for the rest of her trek home. Kyra’s parents did not allow her to eat many processed foods anymore due to her health, so every now and then she would sneak a hot dog or chips to satisfy her intermittent cravings for salty junk food. As Kyra stood in line, she eyed the flashy scratchers and asked to purchase a few as the cashier rang up her food. If she was lucky enough to evade death in some capacity, why not try her luck again?

Upon arriving home, Kyra disposed of the fast-food evidence in the outdoor trashcan before stepping inside. Her mom and dad were bustling around the kitchen, laughing as Franky twirled for bits of food while they cooked dinner.

“Hey guys, I’m really exhausted. I think I’m going to call it early tonight. Is that alright?”

“Oh, of course honey. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah Mom, I just had a long day. Love you both so much.” Kyra hugged each one of them extra tight before pulling away and heading upstairs. If this book really held some sort of power, she hoped they would understand that she did not want to leave them, she just wanted to live. And if she spent too much of the evening with them, she knew she would talk herself out of her only chance.

Franky followed her upstairs and curled up next to her as she put the book on the bedside table.

“Don’t worry, if this book works, I’m not going to leave you without a parting gift,” Kyra tried to say playfully as she fought back tears and worked on the scratchers.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she exposed the last row of the final scratcher. Was she seeing three stars next to $20,000 on the triple seven jackpot?

Kyra grabbed a pillow and screamed into it with glee into before turning to her furry companion, “Franky, we won’t lose the house!” She got up and affixed the winnings to her whiteboard with a magnet and wrote “For Grandma, Love Kyra,” next to it with a dry erase marker.

With a sad smile, Kyra turned from the whiteboard, looked at the book and thought, “Tomorrow…” before crawling into bed and cuddling with Franky for what might be her last time.