I Won't Let Go

I Won't Let Go

"Alex Drake, the doctor's ready to see you now," the nurse that seemed to always have a smile on her face said. I wasn't in the mood for smiles now; all I wanted was to know once and for all what's wrong with me.

"Hello, Alex. How are you feeling today?" the doctor asked as my dad and I walked into the room.

"Fine," I answered, my voice quivering with fear. My dad heard it and took my hand for support. Dad has always been the supportive one in our family; my mom's never really been there for me, not even now.

"So what's the news, doctor?" my dad asked. My parents got divorced around two years ago, which is why my mom's not here today. My mom has a drinking problem and never really cared about me or my little brother, Jeremy. My dad couldn't put up with it and called for a divorce, even though it broke his heart to do. He really did love her, but he didn't think we should be growing up in that type of environment. Now, Jeremy and I live with dad and only see mom every other Saturday.

Going back to the present, I'm at the doctor's because a couple of weeks ago I tripped, and the bruise still hasn't gone away. My dad got worried and looked it up, and apparently it's a warning sign of cancer. That brings us back to the doctor saying the one sentence I feared the most.

"I'm sorry, but your daughter has cancer."

After I heard that, I tuned everything he said out. It didn't matter what else he could say, the only thing I needed to know was one thing: I was going to die.

I used to be the popular girl. The one every guy wanted to get with and every girl wanted to be. I had long, wavy blonde hair, blue eyes with a hint of green surrounding the pupil, and of course, a hot body. That was until one word changed everything: cancer. After I found out, I cut everyone out of my life, my friends, my family. I don't want anyone to suffer after I die. I figured if no one got to know me than they won't miss me when I'm gone. You might think this is a little pessimistic, but I'm just being realistic. I know I'm going to die.

My friends are going on fine without me; they barely even notice I'm gone. I was never really close with anyone at school, but I was really close with my dad and brother. I feel really guilty for doing this to them, but I'm just trying to protect them in the long run. Jeremy and I used to tell each other everything, he was my best friend. We're only two years apart. He's fifteen and I'm seventeen. If we were still that close, he'd be heartbroken when I die. I simply cannot put him through that pain.