Written In The Stars

Unhealthy Habits

Adrena's POV:

I was trying to pick myself up during the hardest most excruciating moment of my life. Every day I felt like Wesley was slipping farther and farther out of my grasp, my finger tips, and in some ways I felt like I was allowing him too. Because there was nothing I could do to change his outcome. I was trying not to cry during class, as I picked up his catch up homework, and cleaned out his locker. 

"Adrena! oh my gosh!" Rachel yelled from down the hall, as I turned to see her running towards me, and then giving me an unexpected hug. 

"What are you doing?!" I asked, feeling uncomfortable from this sudden reveal of affection.

 "I heard about Wesley, about the cancer, how is he holding up? how are you doing?" she asked, as I felt scared for Wesley. 

"What do you mean you heard? who told you that?" I asked, as she looked around. 

"It's a rumor right now, but is it true?" she asked, as I sighed, looking around. 

"He's not doing very good, his body is rejecting chemotherapy and the doctors say he's at high risk of going into a coma like his father. We had an argument about this, but he told everyone he refuses to become a brain dead vegetable. He doesn't want to stop chemo. His mother was against it, saying if his body keeps rejecting it, he could die. He told us at least he would have died fighting. And he wasn't going down without one." I said, as I thought about how that  made me feel. 

My mother was a fighter too, and no matter how many times she fought, everyone knows she lost the battle. I don't like to believe that cancer conquered my mother. But.. what else is there to believe? 

"I am so sorry to hear this Adrena, give Wesley my best. Me and the rest of the lacrosse team already sent over gifts to the hospital." Rachel said, as I forced a smile and then the bell rang. 

I hated how it felt like a waiting game at this point, like each day I spent with Wesley, could be his last. I never wanted to leave his bedside, never wanted to head back to school and pick up his catch up homework. I just wanted to stay by his side. It's not like I had anyone else to talk about this with, I didn't truly have any friends. And even though Rachel apologized, it feels weird opening up to her. This didn't change anything. I should have told her that. 

A memory resurfaced of my mother undergoing chemotherapy just a few years back. I walked inside with her to the hospital room, where there was a group of other people undergoing as well. I felt nervous, seeing how people were throwing up, shaking, sleeping, or just chatting and knitting like this was any other Tuesday. My mother saw the nervousness on my face, as she put an arm around me and kissed my forehead. 

"After this, we can get our nails done, head to your favorite ice cream shop, and order that crazy flavor you always beg me to try,  what is it again?" she asked, as I could see she was trying to distract me. 

"Rocky road explosion with a hint of mint" I said, as she smiled and chuckled, taking her seat on the hospital chair. 

"I don't understand you and nuts when it comes to ice cream" she said, as I shook my head. 

"You never have" I said, as she beams. 

The doctor walks over and readies her arm, as he places the IV in. She winces, but then takes a deep breath, as I take her hand in mine.

 "Dad really didn't want to be here huh.." I said, watching as the doctor placed the bag onto a crane above her. 

"He had to work my love" she said, as I sighed. 

I sat with her in the chair, as I drew things and she hummed while braiding my hair. I kept on feeling, so abundantly aware of my surroundings. The vomiting, the coughing, the sneezing, the chatting, it was playing on a loop, and within every loop, it kept on growing louder and louder and louder, before somebody flatlines in a room right next to us.