Miracle Girl

I

"Inoperable."

That was the word that continually ran through my brain, my tumour filled brain.

My Mom and Dad sat on either side of me, and both there hands grabbed mine. I had been waiting three long years for this moment of completion, and somehow I'd imagined different words coming from Dr. Jacobs mouth. Something along the lines of cancer free, but of course, that hadn't been the case.

I looked to my right, and saw Mom bend over with tears, just like the day we'd heard the news that I had cancer. Except this time there was nothing to give her hope. No hope of chemo, no more surgeries, and no more brain biopsies. I had reached the final round of my fight against cancer, and I hadn't won.

To my left sat Dad, who I'd grown accustom to see crying. He'd been in the military until I turned five, and not once did I see him shed a single tear, until I fell sick.

Snapping out of my haze I asked, "Does that mean I get to go home?" It'd been seven months since I'd been home, and I did not want to spend my last days in the hospital.

My parents crying seemed to be put on silent for the answer to my question. My parents also wanted me home. I had my sister and two older brothers at home that I wanted see, and with my parents along side me throughout my chemo process they'd seen little of my siblings.

"Jonas, I can understand why that would be requested, but with us stopping the treatments entirely the speed of the tumours growth with go into hyperdrive, and will become very painful. We'd like to keep you in the hospital so that we can numb the pain for as long as we can."

All at once our hopes left us in our one sigh, as if all of my life had left me in that one breath and now I was empty.

"But we can move you to a hospital close to home. The way you need to be handled isn't difficult and most any other hospital is qaulified for this." Although Dr. Jacobs was giving us some sort of twisted silver lining, I didn't listen.

It didn't matter where I was, or what hospital I was in. I was dying and no amount of extra pillows or more television chanels could make up for that. Instead of telling Dr. Jacobs where I thought he could stick his grand plan, I sat with my mouth closed, nodded when I had to, held my parents when they cried, and didn't let the reality of my situation sink in until I was alone in my hospital room.

I was treated as if I was already dead. My nurses who'd been here all the months I'd been in this hospital had tears in their eyes.

I eyed the cot beside my bed. My parents usually stayed in a nearby hotel, but on nights when a big result was to come, one or even both in last nights case, stayed here.

I had the urge to kick the cot, but I was still feeling the after effects if chemo, and instead walked into the over-sterile white bathroom, turned on the noisy shower, and sank onto the toilet with my head in my hands.

I was going to die. At fifteen, barely old enough to understand life and death, I was going to leave this world and all it's opportunities.

And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

Alas another short story. Whether you believe in miracles or not I'm sure you'll love this book. Will try not to make this too much of a cliché!