Lucrezia

Florence

1499



Lucrezia watched me as I looked back at her. I knew what it meant. Lucrezia’s head had begun to reek with pain as mine did. I put a hand to my forehead and watched as Lucrezia did the same. My hand burned with heat. Lucrezia’s did too. I heard her gulp. “D-d-do you know w-w-what th-this m-m-means, C-c-cecilia?”

“Lucrezia. We are not going to die. Typhoid fever can not destroy us.” I stroked my young sister’s hair as I lied to her. “We will live. Have faith.” 

Lucrezia grabbed my hand with her small 8-year-old one and looked up at me with large brown eyes. Her wavy blond hair fell into her pale Typhoid-ridden face. “A-are you sure? Y-you are sure th-th-that we are not going to…” Lucrezia paused her quiet whispers, her eyes widening with dread. “Die?”

“Of course I am sure, mia cara sorella.” I lowered my voice, trying to convince myself as well as my sister that we were not going to die. 

Grasping onto my gown, Lucrezia began to sob. I bit my lip before beginning to comfort and hush her. I felt like weeping as much as Lucrezia did. If not more. Lucrezia had her whole life ahead of her. And I had lied. I had told her we were safe from the inevitable storm of sickness and death. Typhoid fever didn’t care. I looked up to the heavens. She is only eight years old! If you must take someone, take me, I prayed. But my prayers had been answered. Typhoid was taking both of us.

I felt my fever increase and began feeling sharp pains all over my body. I heard Lucrezia gasp. She fell to the floor. “Lucrezia! What is it? What is wrong, Lucrezia?”

I heard my breath tremble with fear that my young sister had finally succumbed to the terrible disease that had plagued us for the last month. There was no cure. There was no way out. Our symptoms had been too severe to reverse. The only answer was death. 

When Lucrezia didn’t answer, my eyes enlarged to the size of apples. I omitted a hushed cry of grief from my quivering lips. “L-lucrezia? Lucrezia, can you hear me?!”

A weak, high-pitched groan came from the dormant body on the persian carpet. Her frail voice rasped one feeble word. Cecilia. 

I summoned all of the little strength that remained in me. I used my trembling hands to pick up Lucrezia’s tiny body and place her on my lap. I did not have the strength to place her on the bed or rise from my wooden chair. She cannot even have a deathbed.

    “Lucrezia, can you hear me?”

    I let out a ragged breath of relief at the slight nod and single whisper, quieter than the flapping of an owl’s silent wings. “Yes.”

    “You must listen to me,” I murmured. My pain was suddenly staggering. If we were both to die, I wanted Lucrezia to die first. I did not want her to weep over my lifeless body. We would meet again in only a matter of minutes in the eternal kingdom of heaven. “You must know that I love you more than anything in this world.”

    “More than Mama or Papa?” Lucrezia muttered under her breath.

    I nodded slightly, conjuring every ounce of life I had left in me. “More than Mama or Papa.” My voice had become as soft as my sister’s. “And when we die, we will not be apart. You will not be alone. We will live together for all eternity in the Kingdom of the Angels. We will be with God.”

    Lucrezia looked up at me with the most fearful expression that I had ever seen. That alone could kill me more easily than Typhoid. “You said we would not die,” she whispered. “You said we would not die!”

    Tears began to come to my eyes. I knew that Lucrezia would die. I had known all along. That is why we had done everything we could have with the remainder of our lives. Without telling my sister why. But now Lucrezia knew that she herself was going to die in only a few minutes. “Lucrezia. We are not dying. We will live on in God’s Kingdom. We will live on in heaven.”

    A weak cry escaped Lucrezia. “Cecilia,” I strained my ears for what could be my sister’s last words. “I do not want to die. I do not want to leave you.”

    I hushed Lucrezia with an aching hand. “You will not leave me and I will not leave you. We will see each other again in heaven.”

    “You are dying also?”

    I nodded, biting back tears. “Yes, mia cara sorella. I am dying too.”

    Lucrezia began to weep once more. There was nothing I could or would do to stop her. She looked the worst I had ever seen her. I knew that she was going to die within the next half hour. My Lucrezia was leaving me.

    I cradled my sister in my arms and began to sing to her with my weakening voice. “Come è, amore mio, ti prego, Che non cerchi più la mia compagnia? Sarò sempre pieno di tristezza, Fino al giorno in cui mi richiami e lo intendi.” Lucrezia’s crying began to stop. I weakly smiled down at her, glad that her sadness was coming to an end. But I was wrong. This was it. 

    “Cecilia,” I could barely  hear Lucrezia’s voice. “Ti amo, mia cara sorella. I will see you in heaven.”

    The sweet smile on my sister’s face stayed. She did not move. She did not blink. Her heart ceased to beat. My breath hitched. Lucrezia was dead.

    I began to silently sob. I mourned Lucrezia more than anything. “Why, God?!” I exclaimed quietly. I could tell that I was dying soon as well. “She was only eight! Porca miseria!”

    When my weeping quickly stopped as Lucrezia’s had just before she died, I knew what was coming. I looked down at the small lifeless body in my arms. My life flashed before my eyes as I remembered every precious moment I had spent with Lucrezia. I looked forward to every moment I would spend with her in heaven. I took a deep breath in that I knew could be my last. I was succumbing to typhoid fever. My demise was inevitable. The end was near. But I smiled. I had not died alone. Neither had my dear sister. We had made the best of what Typhoid fever had given us. We were going to God together.

    “Lucrezia. I will see you soon.” I clutched onto my sister’s small lifeless hand and closed my eyes as I felt my heart beat its last