Aspire

Chapter 7

   After three hours, twenty-two minutes, and 37 seconds, the doctor finally told me that Lilly had completed her first round of chemotherapy. I breathed a sigh of relief and stopped the timer on my phone that I held with shaky hands. I had come to the hospital at 8:00 a.m. to see her right before she went to be treated. I timed it because it was somehow my way of keeping track of everything. Those three hours felt like a century.

   After another twenty minutes, they let me visit Lilly in her hospital room. She still had her hair but it was cut shorter-- just at the shoulders. "Hi, Lilly. How was it?" Lilly looked up at me with tired eyes that had almost lost their gleam. "Not my favorite summer activity, but I'll make it through." She half smiled when she finished talking with a soft voice. I smiled back at her, wishing it was me in the hospital bed instead of her. Lilly didn't deserve this; she was going to be a writer, and have a family, and live in her dream house right here in Greenville, just like she always told me about. It just wasn't fair.

•

   After staying with her for a little and after Tyler and Mom had visited, we said our goodbyes. As we were walking down the long hallway, Tyler leaned over to ask, "Why did her hair just get, like, shorter?" I laughed slightly and told him, "She decided to donate it before her chemo treatment." Tyler nodded and half smiled. "That's cool."

   After getting back home, I took out a big canvas I had saved in my room for a painting of Lilly and me. I set it down on my painting coffee table and started to think of a really good time we had together. I remembered the time we participated in a color run three years ago and how fun it was. It was probably our favorite memory with each other and we started to do them every year. I decided on painting us side by side in front of a background of tons of pretty colors like the ones we were coated in during a color run.

•

"Crys, wake up. Go get into your bed." I felt my mom softly shake me. I groaned and opened my eyes slightly. I was slumped over the coffee table with my legs stretched out across the floor. There was paint all over my hands and shirt. "Okay," I say and struggle to make myself stand up. I turn on my phone to see that it's 1:35 in the morning. "How long was I sleeping?" I asked my mom. "About forty-five minutes; you fell asleep after you finished painting Lilly and yourself."

Mom glanced down at my painting that was perched over the edge of the coffee table. With the glow of my phone, I see the painting. It had Lilly and me smiling, and a few colors spiraling out from behind us. "It's pretty good, kiddo. I'm sure she'll love it. Now get some sleep." I nodded and slinked back into my room, rolling onto the bed and almost immediately falling back to sleep.

•

"Why did you do it?! I worked really hard on that painting!" I scream at my dad as he throws the smashed portrait of my friend and me into the rain. "It's not good enough, Crys." He calls through the pouring rain. "You'll never be good enough. At least, not for her." My dad points to my mother who stands inside our house. She can't get out-- she's trapped and there's nothing I can do about it now. "Tyler is already in the car. Let's go, Crys." I struggle to see into the car window through the blur of the rain and the dark night. My brother sits there, struggling to get out of the car. He's just like my mom-- not going anywhere. My dad forces me into the car, and I pull against his grip. "C'mon, Crys! Let's go!" He yells, and I am shoved into his car. I see the painting's colors stream down the uneven gravel of our driveway and then darkness.

"Mom? Are you there?" I yell from my room. "Mom!" I hear footsteps approaching the door and my mom appears behind it. "What's wrong, Crys?" I swing my legs over the bed and run up to her, giving her a hug. "Where's the painting?" Mom looked at me with a concerned face. "It's still on the coffee table to dry. Is something wrong, hun?" I signed with relief and told her, "Just a bad dream, Mom. It's all a bad dream." She nodded and pulled me close as I let a few silent tears fall down my cheeks.

"So, what was your dream, Crys?" Tyler asked as we sat at the kitchen table, eating lunch. It had been around 11:40 when I had woken up. "Well, Dad was there. And Mom, and you. And my portrait of Lilly and me, it was smashed and Dad threw it out in the rain. Mom and you were trying to get to me, but it didn't work. Dad took you and me and left Mom. It was really scary, Tyler." I shudder thinking about it. Tyler looked down at his plate and chewed slowly. "I have nightmares too, Crys. About Dad, about our family. It makes me feel so... anxious. Almost like Dad has control over us, ya know?" I nodded my head with a contemplative face. "Well, the good news is he doesn't." Tyler smiled and started eating again. I may have set his nerves at ease, but I wasn't sure what I had told him was even true.

•

After eating, I decided to finish the portrait of Lilly and me. I added swirls and clouds of color around us, and after about an hour I had finished and was satisfied with the results. She'll love it, I thought to myself. I smiled and kept the canvas on the coffee table to dry because it was fairly large and would fall off of the shelf I usually set paintings to dry. "Be careful in the living room, guys. My painting is drying on the table." I called out to the house. Tyler yelled an "okay," and Mom nodded from her spot at the kitchen table.

   I decided to take the painting over to the hospital tomorrow once it's fully dried. I couldn't wait to see her reaction when she saw the portrait. I texted her saying that I had a surprise for her tomorrow, and she responded with enthusiastic comments and guesses as to what her surprise was. I told her that I couldn't tell her and that she'd have to wait.

•

   Nighttime. It's peaceful, it's intimidating, it sparks confusion and deep thought. All of this surged in the room where I lay, wide awake. The roar of the fan swirled around me, and I heard its patterns of rumbling. Sometimes the sound would go up and down, sometimes it was all white noise. My thoughts were screaming, debating about things like college, Lilly, my art career, my family, and more. I rolled over onto my side and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to confront my nightmares, but I wanted to escape these horrible thoughts.

   I fell asleep listening to the rumbling fan. It kind of sounded like waves, slowly going up and down, crashing. The waves reminded me of my thoughts, in and out, crashing around. But as everyone knows, waves can be dangerous.