The Way I Chose

Dreams Feel Like Reality

My dad takes me to the hospital and they get me prepared for surgery. They start to tell me what they will do in the surgery and I tell them to stop mid-sentence because I don't need to listen to what they have to say or I will vomit.

As I lay in the bed before the operation, Shane enters the room quietly with a small, flexible book in his hand, the Bible. The same one with the gold writing on the front. The first bible I read with him is a sweet memory. It was so much to process but I understand now. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, smiles gently at me and opens the book. He begins to read, and recite some parts from memory and others he reads confidently. "Psalm 39: 7-10 • And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you. Deliver me from all my transgressions. Do not make me the scorn of the fool! I am mute; I do not open my mouth, for it is you who have done it. Remove your stroke from me; I am spent by the hostility of your hand."(ESV) 

I gaze at him, and smile. I do enjoy when he reads to me, when he helps me comprehend the strong words spoken in the Word of God. He flips the light pages to Psalm 138: 8 "The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of you hands,"(ESV), "the Lord will fulfill his purpose for you, Draya." He repeats facing me. He assures me that God will care for me. He leans in and pecks me on the cheek and his lips were warm. I don't know how to respond to his action. So I casually bite my lower lip, and my cheeks turn rose red.

He starts to head out the door as the doctors walk in.
"Be strong, Draya. Trust him." He winks and leaves the room.

The doctors give me a drug and my eyes become heavy.
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My mind is not empty, it is full of wild rides. Many thoughts and desires flash before my eyes. I startle when they pass right in front of me. I don't know what is happening. Is there some reason why I see all these things jumbling around? Am I even alive? All that I have ever thought about when I am bullied floats around in the air around me. The words, my computer, the laughing. I begin to hear all the taunting and teasing and laughing and screaming. I grab my ears and try to block out the sound but it is no use because it is coming from inside my head. I crumple to the ground shrieking and feeling helpless. "What is happening!" I wail. "Make it stop! Make it stop! Please!"
The picture changes and I am in a quiet place, so warm and comfortable, and I realize how familiar it really is to me. It is my bedroom. The mirror reflects a girl, like me, but much more miserable. She is sitting on the floor a few steps away staring at the image. Her hair is frizzy and dry, and her makeup has run from her eyes to her chin. The girl is obviously me, but I didn't realize I looked so bad, I just thought that is what people really saw. Which is why I let myself look that way. But why does this matter anymore? Why is this showing up? Am I asleep? Will I ever awaken?
I flash back to when I was very young, about four years old. I sit in my room with the door open a crack. I knew I was supposed to be sleeping, but I couldn't. My house was filled with the echoing cries and anger that my parents were expressing to each other. They were scary, I didn't know what they were talking about, I just didn't understand it all. But my mom left the next morning and never came back. I did eventually see her again, I was sent to her when my dad was gone. He'd make me walk there myself because he didn't want to see her. I became lonely, I had no one. Am I still breaking inside? Shane has kept me from breaking, but is it worth it? Do I give up hope? Do I give up my newly found faith? So many questions I can't answer myself!
My questions fade as my eyes awaken.
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I hear the beeping of the monitors when I wake and pain fills my head. I remember why I was in here, I remember faintly my dreams. I notice Shane is at my side, holding my hand, the fluttering butterflies dance in my stomach and I smile slightly, but I am not completely mentally present. I will probably say something dumb, or unlike myself in the next five minutes. All he says to me is "be strong" and I can only gaze into his eyes, I cannot force my mouth open. If I gave up hope, would I miss him? Considering how much I enjoy his company. He speaks encouraging words, quoting the Bible, and the catechism. Whenever he does so, it makes me smile, smiling is something I'd never thought I would do again, especially not this often.
"Do you want your dad to come in?" He asks me gently.
"Not yet," I smile, but I'm still in pain. He snickers at my comment and I am happy to know he is relieved.
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The doctor and my dad enter the room ten minutes later and he informs me that I will stay in the hospital for a few days, he said that the surgery went well, but I will need to come back for more tests to relieve me of my cancer. My cancer, I say to myself, why is it so hard to believe still?
My dad leaves for the night and I am left in the room with Shane and he says his goodbyes, and that he will come in the morning, regardless of whether he has classes or not. He leans in and kisses the top of my head, boy did the butterflies dance then! He leaves me there to sleep and all I can think is how much I will miss him.

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Also read the stories by CarliGGSheeran she is also translating my story to Spanish for me too!!! :)