Everyone has a story. Mine is just like any ordinary story but it's different... Like gravity it keeps everyone on there feet and not flying out in outer space and have there brain implode into a million piece. But gravity just seems to keep me floating and the closer I get to the top the closer I get to dying. See when I was 9 I had trouble breathing like someone was putting all of there pressure on my lungs. They told my parents while I was "unconscious" that I had about 7 years left to live. Tomorrow will be 7 years since that day and my parents have been clinging to me like a snail attached to a shell. I'm like the little fragile slug and there the shell that no matter what will be attached to you. And my lung cancer is basically is the shoe that steps on the snail for fun not caring what any one has to freakin say. Crushing the shell. And killing the fragile slug that now lies there dead. But anyway like any cancer case everyone knows that's the way they will die whether it kills you right away. Of you escape the deadly wrath of cancer and the cells just grow back. Either way it's basically the way God made for you to leave this harsh demented world.
