Cancer.
It's a curse.
It turns people's lives upside down and ruins their relationships.
Brynne Foster is a perfect example.
After being diagnosed with leukemia at age 17, Brynne's family struggles to accept her decision of refusing chemotherapy...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Thoughts are rushing through my head as I sit in my bedroom trying to piece together what happened at lunch.
I'm downright confused. Blake could've easily chosen to return my notebook and then leave. Instead, he stayed and got into an argument with Grant to talk to me? He hasn't made an effort to speak to me in four years, and today he decides to talk to me twice, in one day?Why now, after all this time?
What really happened between him and Grant?
This question festers inside of me, waiting for an answer. I can't even fathom what he could've done to make Grant so infuriated with him. Grant is a fairly levelheaded person, so Blake must've done something pretty serious.
My leg bounces up and down as I think. I start to feel nauseous and realize that I haven't taken my afternoon medicine. I take a look at my phone and notice a notification reminding me to take it.
I also see a text message from Dr. Khan, but choose to ignore it. I can't handle anything like that right now. I walk to the bathroom and open the cabinet to my array of medications. I pick the right bottle and pop two blue pills in my mouth. I take a sip of water and head back to my room unsatisfied with the aftertaste. Taking these pills is slowly becoming a chore.
Most of the time, I try to look on the bright side of things, but it's getting hard to do when there's no improvement. As I open the door to my room, I'm pleasantly surprised.
It's around five o'clock in the evening and, the sun is just beginning to set. The light filters into my room through my sheer curtains and shines onto the wood floor creating, a beautiful glow. I stand underneath it, and feel the warmth against my cheek. I take a deep breath and sigh, letting myself come back into reality.
Sitting at my desk, I put my head down, frustrated that I can't fix what happened between Grant and Blake. You know what, maybe I can try.
Slowly, I muster up the courage to ask Grant what his deal is. I can't be in the dark forever. After that, I can never talk to Blake again. I don't want him finding out what's happening to me and telling the whole school. I still want to hear the story from Grant first. I at least owe him that much.
I open my bedroom door and march downstairs with confidence. I'm not going to give up without getting some answers. As soon as I show my face, my mom happily greets me,
"Hey sweetie, what's up," she says softly.
She is in the kitchen as always, her happy place. She seems to gravitate towards it when she's stressed or upset. She has always said that cooking is her therapy.
"I'm doing good," I respond.
"Wonderful," She says optimistically as her eyes gleam with joy.
I don't want to upset her by telling the truth; my head is in utter agony and with every step I take, I physically feel the energy draining from my body. I smile weakly as I look over to the dining room, and see Grant sitting at the table doing his homework.
