✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

48: Sisters & Stone Walls

"You don't get to talk to me like that. You may be my older sister but you don't have any right to belittle me!" My voice boomed against Dr. Mcallister's office in a way that exuded strength instead of anger. "In case you forgot, you were the one who kept mom's condition a secret from me for months. I, at the very least, get to help decide what steps we're taking next. She's my mom too."

"So you're just gonna stop fighting for mom, then? You're going to let the doctor convince you that there's no hope left for her?" Mia retorted, wiping her dampened cheeks with the back of her hand.

"I don't want to breed false hope Miss Quiroz. I still want to be realistic and not blindside patients and their family if things don't play out well," Dr. Mcallister stepped in. He was still very much calm. Not once did his voice raise in decibels - I guessed he had enough practice giving these intense talks.

"It's not false hope if you buffer reality with faith that things may still be okay," Mia cried. "My mom's sick and I understand that but is it really a crime to keep positive?"

"Positivity is okay, but--"

"But what?!" Mia interrupted me with ferocity in her bloodshot eyes. "There are no buts in faith," Mia stood up from the chair, snatching her purse off the floor, "this conversation is over."

With that, Mia stormed out of the office without another word. I jumped slightly when the heavy door slammed shut with a clamorous thud, causing the framed accolades on the wall to rattle. Biting my bottom lip in anxiety, I looked over to the doctor across from me. He sat back in his leather throne, seemingly unfazed by my sister's dramatic exit.

"What now?" I asked. My sister was done with this conversation but I wasn't.

"We stop treatments," Dr. Mcallister suggested, leaning forward in the chair to rest his folded hands on top of the desk. "We of course continue to make sure your mother is as comfortable as possible, but if you and your sister decide to stop treatment, your mother's days will be numbered."

"And how long will my mom live without treatment?" I continued, my voice never succumbing to a stammer. As much as I hated to have this conversation, and as much as I hated the reality that was soon to come, it was time for me to be a big girl.

"Two weeks, possibly three," Dr. Mcallister informed, and just like that, a ticking clock was stamped across my mother's life.

I nodded my head, not saying word. I bent over to pick up my backpack, feeling an odd calmness wash across my body. It prickled my skin, a cool sensation tickling me from the inside out. As I continued to put my backpack on, my eyes trailed a little passed Dr. Mcallister's head to the awards hanging behind him. In the glass frame, I caught something peculiar reflecting from it. I wasn't sure if I believed in ghosts, but I did believe in other ideas and realms that couldn't be explained from my science textbook.

What should've made me scream, jump out of my skin, or run away, made me absolutely still and kept my breathing steady. Because whether my eyes were playing games on me, or it was the lack of sleep that was altering my vision, I could've sworn I saw my father's reflection in the glass frame. It was clear as daylight the way his brown eyes twinkled as he smiled brightly, tiny wrinkles forming at the sides of his lids. When I turned around, there was of course nothing behind me. I wasn't so sure exactly what I was expecting to see, but I don't think that mattered. I think what was more important in that moment, was what I felt.

That odd calmness that rushed through my veins, the prickling against my skin, and the way my insides were warm even though there was a slight shiver to my body, felt like a hug. And not just any hug - special ones that could only be made by fathers for their daughters. It was in that moment did I finally realize how not so alone I really was. Being physically alone is one thing, but emotionally alone, that was a whole other game. And for me, I really wasn't. My father physically may not be with me, but he was always watching over me. As is Brayson, and as will my mom.