Me, Myself and You?

She's gone, I'm not.

Cancer. A word thats been stuck in my head for months, not leaving, not moving. Six letters, 2 syllables, yet a thousand meanings, a million endings. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. I hate that word.

*5 Months Earlier*

Waiting for results is not peaceful. We've been waiting for the results forever. She's obviously going to be okay, like she always is. It's like usual, just a stomach ache. But why would she need the hospital if she was okay?

I look up from the tiled hospital floor and look at her. She had a pained expression on her face. She'd been getting serious stomach aches lately, I thought she was pregnant but no I'm always wrong. This stomach ache was the worst of all of them.

*woosh* the door opens to reveal Doctor Angel.

"Kiley do you know where another adult or guardian is?" She asked.

"Yes, he's on a plane home. He's been on a business trip, that was cut short." I responded

" ok I guess that I can tell you the results of you mother. She has Stage 4 of stomach cancer. She's not going to make it, maybe a few months, I'm sorry I'll leave you two alone." She said and left.

".. Mom.." I croaked, ready to break down.

She looked up at me with pained eyes. "I'm so sorry you must see me like this."

"I'm sorry that you have to deal with all this pain. I should have brought you in sooner, it's all my fault mom, I'm so sorry."

"Baby, cancer is not you fault. I'm going to get better I promise. I'm gonna get better, we're all gonna be fine."

*Back to current day*

Your not okay mom. You never where gonna be. If you were okay would I be getting ready for your funeral? You passed last week 3 hours after I left. In the middle of dance practice, for the concert in your honor to raise money for you hospital bills. Two weeks before my birthday, a month before I start senior year. You said
you would get better, no you promised you'd get better. You said we would go school shopping, just like every year before, but now I have to do it alone.

I got out the black dress she picked out. She picked it out the
weekend she was allowed home for a day. No Make-up for me, tears would be dropped today.

I get the the church and sit in the front row staring at her half opened, Half closed casket. Still beautiful after death.

My father is not coming. She can't bear to see her like this. So he drank his pain away, bottle after bottle. I couldn't believe him. The day I needed him the most, he isn't there.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, look up and see dark green eyes, Nana. I jump up and hug her, no words were spoken, just a long hug. More people start coming in the church saying there sorry for my loss and that stuff, I wasn't listening. A little while later I had to speak.

"Hi everyone. Today is an unbearable day. Mom, I miss you
words can't explain it, I took you for granted. I wake up every morning and hope you will come in my room and tell me breakfast is ready, but it never happens. The door never opens. I keep hoping if I go to the hospital you'll be there, waiting with a smile on your face. But the bed stays empty. The house is quiet, empty. I'm empty without you here. I need you, but can't have you. God needed an angel and got one. I just need you to know, mom I love you. I miss you so much it hurts. I need you here to tell me not to touch your brownies, but you still give me one, but the brownies won't be made. Mom just don't forget me. I know I won't forget you. I love you to the moon and back. Bye mommy."
I broke down after that, crying as much as my eyes would let me.

*week after funeral*

"You've hit depression ma'am." Doctor Idontknowtherename said.
"Ok can I leave now?" I replied. After a swift nod, I left.

*a month later*

Today's the day, the first day of senior year. Dad hasn't stopped drinking, getting worse. He's hit me more than once. Last week he pushed me down the stairs saying it's my fault she's gone, so now I wear a bright neon pink cast on my left because it's broken, by my own dad.

My life sucks. It really does. A dead mom. A drunken, abusive dad. Depression. And a broken wrist. Screw my life.
(Her outfits on top or side)
==============
Hey Herbert's,
So that was a little sad.. But it gets better! I hope you enjoy my story! Thanks for reading.
Until we meet again,
Bri ❤️