Holding On

Disregard

RHYS’S POV: This is probably going to sound completely ridiculous, but cancer’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I always wanted to commit suicide, but I was never courageous enough. Now, I have the certainty that I’m going to die soon. I try to let go on life, but as hard as I try, I’m stuck in this hell they call Earth. I have no one. I’m only fourteen, but I have no parents. My mum left me with my dad, and that was good for a while until my dad died from a drug overdose. I was living in an orphanage for just over a year before I made the hospital my home. The nurse walks into my room and picks me up off of my bed, placing me into the wheelchair. That’s when you know you’re screwed – when you need to be carried two steps just to sit down again. I smile as the nurse starts to push my wheelchair down the hall. The reason I’m smiling is because I know it won’t be long before I die. I’m so weak; I’d estimate my life to go probably until next week. A lot of my nurses and doctors are astonished at my carelessness of life, and ask me why I speak so lowly of it. The only reason I speak of it like that, is because I have no respect for it. “Wait, who’s in there?” I ask quickly. I keep a mental log of all patients in all five hundred rooms, but in the year I’ve been at this hospital, I’ve never seen that room occupied. “New one, about a month ago. APL*,” Nurse Kris tells me. “Can I see them? Seeing as I’ve has APL for a year,” I ask sweetly. With a sigh, he agrees and wheels me into the room. I see a bald head, skinny limbs, dark circles and mottled skin, which makes feel sorry for this mystery patient. As I get I better look, I see the deep blue eyes that are like a window to this person’s soul. It’s Niall Horan. My weak eyes start to tear up and I hold back the urge to scream. If I screamed, my lungs would end up on his face. He smiles at me, then winces, obviously weak.