~An Imperial Affliction~

The Young Boy

May 21st, 2011~

"Actually, the best gift you could have given her was a lifetime of adventures." — Lewis Carroll

Whenever I go out in public, no matter where I am, I hear snickering from children, questioning why I'm bald or have a tube in my chest—normal things to me, but a bizarre sight to them. Unfortunately, it's a thing I've grown to live with. But I can't blame them for being ignorant, if I was healthy, I would probably be doing the same.

I walked to the library around two o'clock in the afternoon to search of one of my favorite books when I was younger, "The Adventures of Alice's In Wonderland." I yearned to read the book once more for nostalgic purposes. It's been years. The first time I recalled reading the tale was on the night of eleventh birthday. I was devastated that no one had arrived to my party, due to the blizzard that appeared the day before. As I laid in my bed, hugging my pillow while sobbing, my Father knocked on my door, and asked in a booming voice, "may I enter, my ladybug?" I smiled when he called me "ladybug," a nickname he created when I was a toddler - supposedly I went into Mother's garden and scooped up at least fifteen ladybugs at once." I slowly made my way towards the door, then turned the silver handle, and there he was clutching a rectangular box wrapped with a floral patterned paper. When he handed me the gift, my imagination raced chanting, What's inside?   I viciously ripped open the present to see what it was. To my surprise, it was a book, but it wasn't just an ordinary book; It was "The Adventures of Alice In Wonderland!" I took a minute to marvel at the viridescent hardcover.

 I hugged Father so tightly, which made him hug me tighter. I escaped his grip and exclaimed in my chipmunk voice "please read to me!" And sure enough, he sat on the bed, and spent the night reading.

 We spent so much time together, reading the story, and when we finished the book, my father told me something that I would never forget. He said, "Life can be however you imagine it to be. People cannot tell you how to live your life. Life is precious, and we have such little time on this planet. If you see the world in beauty and love, then you shall have a wonderful life for all of your days. Promise me you'll never feel gloomy. Promise me that you will live your life in love. Promise?" I promised.

I suppose that memory left me no choice, but to relive that moment. I don't know what became of that book he gave me. Maybe my mother had sold it at a yard sale or maybe she donated it to a school or maybe I had simply lost it. I desired to feel like a child again with no worries and no fears. Children do not understand what fear is because everything os new to them, that's why they are so curious. But as the children start to grow, they become less questionable, and they become scared of everything because they are aware of what could happen.

I sighed, and entered the store to search for the Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit. When I had found myself in the children's section of the store, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned and saw a small boy with a red baseball hat on. I'd say he was only nine or ten years. He looked up at me, straining his neck, and asked "Are you a boy or a girl?" I answered him quietly, "I'm a girl." Then, I turned back to resume looking for the book.

The boy, didn't move even though he had his answer. I tried to shoo him away, but he stayed glued to the floor. He cocked his head to the side and questioned me, "Then why do you have no hair?" I turned back to the boy and hesitated, trying to think how I could explain my disease to the child. I barley understood it, and I was the one who had the disease. I couldn't explain how I had too many white blood cells and the cells couldn't fight off germs, thus making me sick. That was to complex for a child's mind. "Well," I finally said, "look at your body and then mine. They look the same, you see, but on the inside of my body, certain thing are different, and that's bad. There are bad things inside of my body, so I have to go to the doctors, and they give me medicine to help me, but this particular medicine causes my hair fall out." The boy stared at me, still puzzled. Then, the boy took off his cap and touched his hair. "Will that happen to me?" He asked nervously. I smiled and shook my head "No. It shouldn't happen to you." Of course I couldn't give him an exact answer of a yes or no because, life is full of surprises—good and bad wether you liked it or not. However, I hoped that he would live a life without cancer. I would never wish an illness upon anyone, especially cancer.

Soon the small boy put his hat back on and walked closer to me, and hugged me. My eyes widened, but I felt a grin spread across my face, and I hugged the boy back. I had felt so many emotions at once for that one little action. Then I slowly saw the boys face be reveled from under the baseball hat and whispered "I'm sorry. But you'll get better. I just know it." I wasn't so sure of that. I released him from my arms and replied sweetly, "Thank you, what's your name?" The kind boy announced, "My name is Tommas, but you can call me Tommy." I got on one knee to get to his height and chuckled "Nice to meet you, Tommy; I am Anna." We shook hands and just then, Tommy's father had grabbed him by the hand and scolded. "There you are! Where in the world were you? Me and your mom were worried sick!"

The boy apologized and introduced me to his dad. The middle aged plump man grinned at me, but It wasn't a normal smile you would have. It seemed like he was forcing lips to spread apart to show his teeth. "Im sorry if he was a bother to you at all. He's a bit of a handful" the father joked. Then the boys dad walked to the exit, expecting his son to follow. Tommy yelled goodbye, then disappeared behind a bookshelf.

I was completely fine with people asking me these sort of questions. That's why I liked kids, they weren't afraid to learn. Adults wouldn't want to ask, thinking that they would hurt me if they were near me. I'm just a girl, a human, just like them. Mankind although grow up and when we grow up we lose our curiosity. We ask less and less questions and we learn minimum, which I talked about earlier. Eventually I found the book, checked it out and left. But while I was walking away, I heard the old lady who worked behind the desk, say to herself, "The poor girl, whatever she has, I pray for her dear soul."