Prologue
She counts the teardrops that fall from the gloomy sky as she puts on one ear to the clock as it ticks another second and the other ear pays attention to what the doctor has to say.
“The tumor in your brain has become malignant.” He tells her apologetically. “It’s growing quite faster than we thought. I’m sorry.”
She looks up at him to see that his eyes glitter with sadness. But it doesn’t match hers. Why do salubrious people always apologize to sick people? It’s not like they’re the ones dying in the process. Still, it didn’t stop them for feeling sorry. It’s kind of getting on her gut but she let the skies do the crying for her sake.
He’s a good man. She thought. He has always been a good man. Dr. Newman—her doctor.
But she doesn’t want to cry. Well, she would but at least not in front of him or his furniture. Besides, she already knows the prognosis before it was even released into the air like pollution. She feels like the sickness had always been with her like a tattoo. She was branded for life. But she wasn’t afraid.
She was sad, of course but she was ready. At least she was trying to be. And so, she smiles up at him and she puts on her bravest face.
“How much time?”