The Lemon healthcare company has the cure for cancer. A needle over the tumour and its deflated within weeks. Little to no side effects.
“We can’t distribute it around!” Helena, the CEO rages. A vain on her forehead close to popping. “We’ll lose so much money! Imagine everyone gets the cure and all the money for chemo and radiation therapy, Immunotherapy and stem cell transplant is all gone!”
“It will save lives in a way shorter time span” Shy Christopher whispered.
Helena glares long and hard at Christopher, eyeing his expensive tux, his fingers wrapped with diamonds. A fucking rolex. A damn obvious hair transplant. She points at him grossly “You’re literally a walking bank Mr……?”
“Christopher” his mouth opens and shuts quick.
“Okay, whatever, you’re literally drooling money while you speak. We’ve had a vaccine for HIV virus a couple of years back and I don’t think I remember anyone upset about it not being included in our health care plans or even mentioning it!” Her arm in front of her, the index finger raised towards him “Not. Even. One. Then why the fuck do YOU care NOW Chris?” She hardly blinks. It felt like it was just her and him rather than a team of 10 sitting in the conference room. Or at least thats how he felt. He couldn’t find the words to speak, his eyes were too focused on the glass table and the pen in front of him. His leg shaking and his pale ageing skin turning a hot pink.
Helena leaves the pin drop silent room a while after Christopher found no way of answering her. Of course he can’t. He needs to be coated in gold every chance he gets. The whole team does.
Once, this secretary knew about Helena’s plans and was about to tell someone but what the mischievous CEO did was invite her to a dinner at her 4 story house that looked like it had its own cloud that rained hundred dollar bills. She fed her whine that was about the price of what the secretary gets in months and offered a very expensive deal. No doubt the secretary took it and now they’re close to best friends.
Before Helena left she suggested the team to start filing forms and buying what they can of the cure so it isn’t distributed anywhere. Hiding all evidence of course.
“My 6 year old daughter is dying of a brain tumour and your biggest issue is that I haven’t payed the insurance YET?” pits of dark circles lay under her puffy eyeballs, veins covering her eyelids, her hair hasn’t been washed, hell, maybe she didn’t even take a shower for long. Tears threaten to fall as she stares, just like Helena, long and hard at Christopher who in return is trying to look elsewhere. Though, everywhere else reeks of sickness and death. His gaze falls on the daughter thats laying on the hospital bed fast asleep. Tubes wrapped around her fragile tiny body and a huge surgical scar around her bald head.
He gets to see kids and people of all ages dying of diseases over and over but this time it churns and twists his heart. He now knows theres a cure for her. That should make everything different right?
“At this point you can’t keep treating your daughter until you pay, its procedure ma’am”
The mother hears his words like they announced the breakage of a plague. As if fire ants crawled into her ears and into her failing heart eating and ripping it away and out to feed their hungry colony. Christopher knew what was going to happen; Her voice will combust into tiny particles in space and time, spread their volume throughout the floor of the hospital. She’ll spread her anger by mentioning her struggle of watching her oh, so sick baby girl, how cruel the system is and how insensitive he is. Then she’ll disintegrate onto the floor, her back asking for support from the wall thats witnessed countless deaths. She’d spill her despair through her tears for what seems like hours and then says something she thinks is so offensive like “I hope you rot in hell”. Eventually, she’ll go to her daughters side holding her ever so gentle hands, showing ‘affection’ and sits silently crying.
Thats exactly what happened.
He left the receipt by the desk next to her and left. It was paid for within a week.
Chris cried himself to sleep and the next day did the same exact thing.