Hating Grayson ✓

31

You never anticipate that it will happen to somebody you know. It's a rare thing. I mean, you may hear about it happening to the nice lady down the street, or to a member of your high school's faculty, but you never think that it would happen to someone who has been in your life since the day you were born.

Until it does.

"I have cancer." My mother's words stung. Words I never expected to hear. Words I never wanted to hear.

Silence enveloped the room.

My mind instantly raced with several worst-case scenarios as my eyes began welling with tears and my chest began tightening with the possibility of future grief. It was as if the entire world paused around me.

This is not fair. I thought to myself.

"How long have you known?" Asked Mitchell.

My mother cleared her throat and took a deep breath as she settled further into her seat. "For a few weeks, now." She answers. "Almost a month."

"Well-" I choked. I felt an ache in my heart. "Are there treatments you can do?" I managed to ask, fighting back tears.

"Yes, that's why we decided to tell you tonight." She paused to take a sip from her tea. "I start chemotherapy at the end of this week."

"So... you'll get better? You'll be okay? Right?" My voice quavered.

"I hope so." Mom gave an optimistic smile.

"She'll get better." Dad says from he seat, reassuringly.

A particular flashback came to mind.

I was seven or eight years old, dressed in a black suit and crying because my grandfather had died. The wake was held at our place, and I was upstairs in my bedroom holding my grandpa's watch in my hand. He had gifted it to me two weeks before, which angered Mitchell. Grandma Kate spoiled Mitchell, while Grandpa spoiled me. I never understood why, it's just how it always was. I had always wondered why he gifted it to me two weeks before his death. It was as if he knew... As I was crying on the edge of my bed, my mother comes in. She's dressed in all black, except for the string of pearls around her neck. "There you are." She says, taking a seat next to me. She puts a hand around me and pulls me closer. "It's okay." She says. "He's in a better place." I sniffle, clutching grandpa's watch in my hand. "Mom?" I croaked. "Yes?" She's still holding onto me, but she pulls away so that she can see my face, which was red from all of the crying. "Why do people die?" It's the question everyone wonders, especially when we're children. My mother takes a breath before answering my seven to eight year old self's valid question. "It's a part of life." She says. "I know it sucks, but everyone dies eventually."
"I don't wanna die." I say. My mother wipes away the tears from my cheeks. "You won't. Not for a very, very long time. You'll grow up, make friends, travel around the world, fall in love and maybe one day you will even start a little family of your own." I sniffled. "I hope I die before you, dad and Mitchell." I say. My mother gasped at that. "Why would you want that?" She wondered. "I don't think I'll be able to live without you guys." My mother pulled me into her embrace. "Oh, my sweet little boy."

I return to the present, and, with tears falling from my eyes, I get out of my seat and throw my arms around her. "Oh, sweetie." He hugs me back. Mitchell joins the hug on the other side of mom. Then, dad comes over, adding the final puzzle to the embrace. We stayed like that for what seemed like forever, and I wish it had been forever.

It was now a few hours later, and we were all seated in the living room watching mom's favourite movie: The Notebook. We made popcorn and hot chocolates, and dad wanted s'mores but mom insisted that it would be best to not accidentally burn the house down like the last time dad wanted s'mores.