Cancer Love (Editing, writing how it used to be)

Two Years Earlier

You can't imagine what I must be feeling, sat here awaiting tests results to arrive and knowing full well doctors would only keep you waiting that extra thirty minutes because they thrilled on the delight of seeing you in agony. I'm losing my mind trying to remain stable and locking positive thoughts from fading away. I've been through tests after tests after tests, giving so much blood I could feed a corpse. I want all the experiments to just stop. I suck on the clear straw of the apple carton and look across where my parents sat opposite the grey desk over filling with paperwork of many other patients and their problems. There's an old computer switched on and running, an small dead cactus plant that probably never had a drop of water and a mug with a blue band wrap around that looks like white cold coffee. I couldn't spot any photography frames of his family. He would always speak about his children, how they would be my age and getting into trouble, teenage moodness he'd say but I'd never see any photos of them.
Despite that, the office felt haunting with its white dim walls, sealed window and closed blinds as though he liked the darkness of the gloomy office.

A snob almost left my mother's moist lips as she tried desperately hard not to burst into a mess, her trembling petite body huddle to my father's side as she held onto his fingers tightly. I know she was trying to hold it all together but my mother was an emotional wreck when trouble times appear. I often wonder why on earth my father puts up with her wincing and crying, and stubbornness. My father is a large quiet man and yet, he always seem to have a softness about him when it came to mum. 

"My apologise for keeping you all waiting," Dr Greene apologises as he makes his way over to the front of his desk, sitting on the black leather spinning chair and shuffling the thin file before placing it down and opening to the first page. Dr Greene is a tall lanky man with swollen cheeks, a small nose and very blue eyes that felt like they were piercing into my soul. I hardly looked his way because of it.
"How long do you expect us to wait?" Dad's impatience tone travelled in the still room. He was not pleased at all having to be dragged away from work (not that I know what he even does) and with my mother slowly at breaking point, he is angry. "Is our daughter well or not?"
"Well Mr Birdie_"
"Mr Gray. My wife and children are Birdies. Personal reasons so without being formal, get on with it so we as a family can deal with whatever comes after."
Peter Gray my father name is. Not completely sure why mum never took his name or why my brother and I have our mum's maiden name. I often wondered what the personal reasons were, whether he was keeping something from us.

Dr Greene seem pale looking at dad's impatience expression, his cold brown eyes glaring in his direction. He always had that effect on people he didn't have time with. Marcus would always tell me 'you've got those eyes, cold and dark' he'd shiver whenever I'd make the same expression as dad.
"Your daughter has Acute Myeloid Leukemia and I would advice starting her on chemotheraphy right away."

My father takes a long suck in breath, shutting his eyes tightly, his jaw locks and his hands ball in fists and then it happens. A burst of howling crying echoes out of my mum's mouth and tears spill down her red cheeks. The impact of all of this just made me want to disappear under a rock. I want to go home and pretend that everything is all great. I want to carry on smiling even if it is only pretend. However, I can't even pretend to smile now. There's a sea of thoughts and questions running through my mind to be pretending about anything right now. She's crying so much and he's holding her with his strong arms and as the minutes pass, I realised something. Why hasn't anyone asked how I am in this situation? Don't I matter.
A fourteen year old honour pupil that has a whole life awaiting her? I'm never in trouble, always keeping my head down and studying extra hard to make my parents proud just as they are proud of my brother.
So surely I would matter? Right?