Never 18

Chapter 1

"How are you holding up?" Dad's voice is soft, barely above a whisper as he comes into my room.

I force a weak smile, trying to hide how scared and tired I am. "I'm... managing, Dad. I think."

He walks closer to my bed, his eyes searching mine, looking for the truth I'm trying to hide. "You sure?"

"Yeah," I lie, my voice cracking a bit. The words feel bitter on my tongue.

"Good. That's... that's good. I know this is tough on you. It's even harder on me."

"You're not the one dying, Dad."

The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Dad's face crumples, and I can see the pain in every line on his face. "No, it's worse," he says. "Because I'll stay in this world without you. And this world without you is... unbearable. There is no world without you that is bearable."

I see tears forming in Dad's eyes, and my own eyes begin to sting. "Dad, don't say things like that. Please. I'll cry again. And I'm tired of crying."

He nods and takes a deep breath, trying hard to hold himself together. His hands, rough from years of work, tremble as he reaches for mine. "Sorry. It's just that you're all I've got left, honey. You're all I've got."

This morning, we got the news that changed our lives forever. I have the same rare brain tumor that took my mom years ago. Stage four. Inoperable. Terminal. I have around six months left. Time is running out.

Dad isn't taking the news well. After the diagnosis, he cried non-stop for the first hour. Then he held onto me like his hug alone could keep death away. In the third hour, he punched walls and broke a lamp. Now, in this fourth hour, he's trying so hard to be strong. But I can see right through him. We are both shattered, trying to understand a world that suddenly feels so cruel and unfair.

"I wish..." I start, feeling a lump in my throat. Tears begin to fill my eyes, and my voice cracks as I continue, "I wish I could do more. You know? I feel like I need to make up for all the things I'll never get to do."

Dad nods, wiping away his own tears as he listens closely.

"Like... I wish I could travel across America. To see its beauty and experience the wildest things. You know that, Dad? That's something I've always wanted to do."

"Okay," he replies, his voice barely a whisper as he fights to stay composed. He holds my hand tighter, and it hurts a little, but I don't mind.

"But... it's okay," I say, trying to convince both of us. "It's all going to be okay."

He shakes his head, unable to accept my attempt at comforting him. The lines on his face seem deeper than they were just a few hours ago.

"No, really. Dad, listen," I insist, my own strength fading. "It's not fair. I know it's not fair. I know that better than anyone. I'm scared, Dad. I'm terrified." Despite trying to stay strong, tears start to run down my face, hot and salty against my skin.

"Oh, sweetheart." Dad wraps me in a tight hug. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'll be here until the very end."

"I know, Dad," I whisper, hugging him back. My arms feel weak, but I hold onto him with all the strength I have left. "I know you will. And that's why... that's why I need to be brave right now. I need to be strong. For you."

He holds me tighter. "My baby..."

"Dad, please," I gasp, tapping his back. "Please, Dad, you're squeezing too tight."

"Oh. Sorry." He lets go, and I see the raw fear and sadness in his eyes. In that moment, I realize that maybe he's even more scared than I am. His eyes, brown like mine and Mom's, are full of a pain I can barely understand. "Have you thought about the treatments?"