I've Been Cancered.

It all started with a phone call. Not the kind that comes at random, the kind you've been anticipating all day, the kind that makes your stomach churn, like when an ex calls. In my case it was a call from the doctor. A few days earlier I went to the doctor because I had had a non-stop headache for 8 days and had been vomiting and feeling nauseated.We had taken some cat-scans They said we would be expecting a call with my results in a few days. They hadn't sounded very reassuring. 

My mom picked up the ringing phone and put it to her ear. Her face got pale throughout the call, and I remember getting so sick at the thought of what it might be I went to my room and hugged my stomach. I'm only 16, I'm too young to die! I hadn't even had my first kiss yet, though I was *this* close. When my mom came into my room I was rocking back and forth. She had placed a comforting hand on my back. "Honey…" There was no easy way to break it to me. "They found a tumor in your brain…" She was wiping away tears, "You have brain cancer…" My worst fear had been confirmed. How many people die of cancer a year? Somewhere in the millions right? 

From that phone call on my life started going south. I was in the hospital most of the time. My teachers didn’t even bother to give me schoolwork. Were they being sympathetic? Maybe. But everything looked twisted in my opinion, it looked more like they knew I was going to die. I had to do chemotherapy. By far the hardest part was seeing my hair fall out, clump by clump. 

It ended up everywhere. My beautiful, brown locks. Gone. So was my hope. One day while I was sitting in the hospital, playing ad-libs with my big brother. Both our moods were pretty solemn, we both knew what we were facing. I could see how my big brother looked at me, he was plain out worried and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t hide it. We’re listening to the radio, and the worst song possible to come was “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry. Sure, I had loved the song before I had been diagnosed with cancer and was always an inch away from death, but the words really touched my heart this time and I thought about what it really would be like if my mom had to bury me. Plain awful, thats what. My brother left the room in a flurry, and I knew the same thing came up to him.

The one good part was that I got my first kiss. My best friend for forever came in to visit. He brought a bunch of balloons that he and his parents  had got for me. He handed me a card. It was really sweet, wishing me to get better. 

“Hanging on their?” He joked. “I guess.” I said, blushing, “Ugh, I must look horrible!” “You don’t look that bad.” I shrugged, “Your just saying that to be nice.” “And what if I am?” He joked. “Well I’d just have to do something about that, wouldn’t I?” “Look. I’ve been meaning to tell you something...that no matter what happens I’ll be here for you.” I look away, but he leans in to kiss me. I wipe tears from my eyes. “But what if I’m not okay? What if I can never love you again?” I sniff. “We can make the most out of our time.” From then on he came over a lot and played games with me.

My cancer kept getting worse. One of the side effects was drifting in and out of consciousness. Eventually they announced it was time for the long-dread surgery. I knew the were gonna have to put me to sleep and I worried I’d never wake up.

After surgery, and some heated discussion outside of my hospital room, my mom and dad came in dripping with tears. “Hon...it’s...it’s got worse. You...you...a...aren’t gonna...gonna make it.” My mom cried. My dad was even teary eyed too.

I was shocked-stunned. What can I say? Oh, thanks for the news! We all love to die! My eyes are wet but I beg myself not to cry. “I...I...I’m to young to die!” I cry. Against my own will tears start spilling out over my cheeks and flowing onto my stupid hospital gown. 

My parents hug me and comfort me, there own tears spilling onto me too. Theres so many things I’ve yet to do! And I just had my first kiss yet to disappoint him to! What bothers me the most is that he’ll move on like he never really cared about me. Sure he’ll mourn at first but then it will be back into the show. I mean, what did I expect, a hug and a kiss and reassurance that it’ll be alright? No.

I’m going to die and I need to face it. We all die and live for a reason, who knows what mine is, but I’m sure there’s a very good reason. 

My breathing has been heavy lately and I’ve been drifting more into unconsciousness into consciousness. Every time I drift off I wonder, “Was that my last look at the world? Is this it?”

Flowers, and cards, and teddy bears have been piling at my bedside. He visits me every day, and one day I just had to spill it to him. I’m gonna die, and there’s nothing you can do about it!

More tears are shed, but soon it gets so old I don’t really care. I’ve lost my will to live. I’m going to die anyways. I tell my family and loved ones I love them every time they come in. They respond the same.

Then there was this one day when I felt a tugging. I just had a feeling that today was my day to die. “Mom...” I said, clutching her hand, “Whatever happens be strong. I’m going to a better place. Please mom.” She nods, crying, knowing that I’ve excepted the fact that I’m going to die.

                                                                        Because I do. 

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Sorry guys-not really a happy ending but it really gets you thinking.