But I’ve started to tell myself that I’m certainly going to die. The first time I thought about it, it was super, super hard. I cried inside, a lot, for a long time. It was impossible to know how long, but it felt like ages. I’ve thought about it every day ever since, and now I’m resigned. Perhaps it won’t be so bad for Mum and Grandma, after all. They come and see me in hospital every day – that’s not a life. So I tell myself that, if I were dead, well, they’d be upset at first, but then it would pass and things would be better. Things always pass. Little Louis was cute, but it was better to put an end to it, because seeing him like that was slowly destroying his family. And I don’t want to destroy Mum. I don’t want to destroy Grandma. They don’t deserve it. It would be better for them if I gave up. That’s what I tell myself every day.

But I can’t. I don’t know why, but I can’t accept that it’s over. Deep down, something is telling me I can still wake up. Actually, it’s not something saying that, it’s someone. Mum. I want to see her again. Hug her tight. Even if it was just once, it would be worth the fight. I’d like to say thank you to her. Tell her I love her. Tell her that she’s the best mother in the world. Just once. Well, if it’s more than once, that’d be OK too . . . Then I could die, if that’s what’s meant to be. I know I keep contradicting myself, but try to understand, imagine yourself in my place. What would you do? Give up or carry on? I simply listen. No choice; it’s the only option available.

When I hear Mum, even with her new voice, she sounds as if she still wants me to wake up. So I’ve got to keep trying.

20

Day 3

Louis’s Heritage

I asked to see Dr Beaugrand at the end of the day. He had a solemn expression and seemed worn out, a distant look in his eye. For a moment, I thought he was trying to avoid me, but I was there and I was waiting for news.