Petals In The Storm #WATTYS2015

Chapter 8: Table Dance

I couldn't believe what almost happened. It was all a blur, and all going downhill.

Why!? I thought.

We are suppose to be partners, and he goes and tries to pull a move like that.

I rushed to my house and walked upstairs fast, "Why are you in a rush sweetheart?" my dad asked me.

"Nothing I'm just really tired," I lied.

"Well, I was hoping I could talk to you."

"Um, dad can we talk tomorrow. I just want to get to sleep." I replied.

My dad sighed and responded with a small smile, "Sure."

"Good night," I smiled, and he said the same thing back.

I got up to my room, and changed into my usual pajamas: large t-shirt, and underwear.

I tried to fall asleep but Johnathan kept popping into my head, and I finally decided to drown my thoughts out with music. So, I turned on some Nirvana and soon enough I dozed off into a deep sleep.

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Saturday

I sat on the living room couch, sketching and occasionally sipping on my lemonade.

"Good afternoon sweetheart." my dad smiled, and sat down next to me.

I moved my legs over so he could sit down, and I pulled the warm afghan over my shoulders.

"So, sweetheart any plans for tonight?" he asked curiously.

I shook my head, and pursed my lips, "No, just going to stay home and probably sketch," I replied.

"Come on you're 18! You should be out having a good time, and not be stuck around the house doing nothing."

"I'm fine with doing nothing, and besides I am doing something." I said while pointing to my sketchbook, "So, what did you want to talk to me about?" I added.

My father chuckled, and said, "Well, I wanted to tell you that I'm stopping chemotherapy." he said hesitantly.

My heart stopped, and I couldn't breathe, "What...?"

My father sat up straighter, and scratched his head, "Now, sweetheart I don't want you to get upset, and be mad at me. But, I feel that if it's my time to go, then it's my time" he said gently, "Chemotherapy is just making me sicker." he added.

I couldn't speak and I start to feel tears forming.

"Sweetheart talk to me. Your mother already knows, and I hope you can understand too."

"I came...here for you, and...you're just going to stop treatment?" I said shakily, "I came here for you!" I said firmly.

"Baby I know, and I didn't want you to be upset. The doctor said that treatment wasn't helping." he tried to explain.

"Give it more time, and...who knows maybe it will work." I said trying to convince him otherwise.

My father put his hand on my shoulder, and I moved it away from his touch. He moved his hand away, and looked down clearly in pain, "Arden Rose I've been doing treatment for a year, and no results." he said quietly, "If it's time for me to go then let it be, and who knows I may get better on my own." he added.

I got up, and through the afghan down on the couch, "If you were really trying you would keep up with treatment!" I shouted hurt, "So...you're willing to just let chance take over, and not even think about what losing a dad to me would do!?"