My Last Year

Best 12 months ever

 Hey guys! As of right now (March 12, 2014) This story is unedited, and has pretty slow updates. This is my story completely and came from my imagination. Please do not copy this in any shape or form, I do not enjoy reporting people.

      My heart caught in my throat. My breath started coming out in short, desperate gasps. I clutched the armchairs tightly. My world seemed to be slipping away as my vision blurred and my hearing went dim. I thought I was going to pass out. I was tipping sideways, or I seemed to be.

      And then I lost it.

      I was going ballistic; pulling my hair out, pacing around the small room as the doctor stood there awkwardly and nervously: perhaps she just didn’t know how to break the news to someone that they had Cancer. No. Wrong. She had probably done this many a time before and decided to be as plain and simple as she could be. How cruel. Mom was crying; her makeup smeared down her face. I was angry, upset, and distraught. How could we not have been warned? Why didn’t we get any signs? This wasn’t fair! I fumed my rage out and when Mom put her hand on my shoulder I sat down to calm myself.

      I sat in a trance for what seemed like centuries as the doctor explained some more tests and therapy that I'd have to take as well as treatment. Would I even have to take Chemo? If I was already a lost cause, what was the point? It must’ve only been a few moments as I zoned out, because Mom and the Doctor were still there, not a day older than before.

      “I’m sorry,” The Doctor repeated for the third time.

      Mom sobbed. My eyes were dry; I hadn’t shed a single tear. I was scared. What was going to happen in the next 12 months? Did it matter? I wouldn't ever graduate. I wouldn't get married. I wouldn't have kids. Or drink. I wouldn't grow old. I'll never be an old woman with hundreds of cats. Did that matter?

      Of course it mattered!!! I balled my fists. What was going to happen in the next 12 months? I don’t know. Is it going to matter? You can bet hell it will! And so it happened, I wasn’t about to let my impending death ruin my life. Or what was left of it, anyway. I have lived 15 fantastic years and now I’m going to live the last year to its fullest.

      Presently, I took a deep, calming breath and tried to smile at the Doctor. “Don’t be sorry,” I said. My chest felt compressed and tight, like I was about to sneeze...or cry. I stood up, shook her hand and exited the room. My knees felt weak and wobbly.

      After closing the door, I took a deep breath and started down the hall. My life just changed; only it hasn’t picked which path it’ll take in this big fork in the road of my life. I was going to choose which way it was going to go. My life will take a turn for the better. I am going to make the next 12 months of my life, the BEST 12 months of my life.

      I stopped suddenly to think this through. Would it be exactly 12 months? Or would I have a little less or a little more time than that? Was it just an estimate? How did this dying business work? What if I miraculously defeated the cancer? I'd be a cancer hero. An inspiration.

     An inspiration. Wow, I liked the sound of that!

      Mom had caught up with me, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. I walked with her, trying to keep up with her quick pace as we went left for the car in silence.

*               *                          *

      The car was hot when we got in. I had the keys and got in the driver's seat. Mom was still crying. I almost wanted to roll my eyes. “Mom, please. I still have a year. It isn't the end of the world."