"So Sisyphus, how have you been doing lately?" I ask my hamster from my bed. I just got back from the hospital from yet another round of radiation. A bucket next to my side and an oxygen tank on my bed, I felt as weak as we humans can get. I'm not complaining, I could have it much worse, after all, I'm not on life-support am I? I turn over and vomit, careful not to puke on my new bedsheets. Sisyphus squeaks high-pitched squeak. He wants food. My mom is been complaining for the last few days about how loud and annoying Sisyphus is. If I wasn't dying, I know she'd give him away. But with mothers, they try to make you as happy as he can be, even if it annoys their butts off. My friend Brooklyn has been visiting for the past couple days. We've been friends since preschool, and she's been with me through the whole diagnosis through death thing. I feel sad to know that I'm dying, and then I have to leave her, and my mom, and Sisyphus, of course. Do you only good thing that's come out of the Dutch tulip man, is him actually living up to his name. With him being Dutch, that's one part of his name. The other parts is tulips, and even though my mom is a tulip frenetic with one eye, the dutch Tulip man never helps. Until about a week ago, he was about as helpful as a rat living in your walls.
YOU ARE READING
An imperial affliction
Teen FictionI'm Anna, I'm 16, I was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia when I was 13, and I decided to start a foundation for people who wanted to cure cholera with cancer.
