SHOW ME HOW

Chapter 3

You can have a thousand problems in life, until you have a health problem. Then you will only have one problem. Good health is like a crown only the sick can see...

School started last week, but I was too sick to attend. I had a chest infection that made me feel like I was about to die a few times. I had to stay in hospital for a few more days and missed out on seeing Elijah off at the airport. He clearly didn't want to leave, but mom promised to keep him updated on everything that happened this side.

He stayed by my side during those last few days in the hospital, refusing to go home while Mom was working. She really can't afford to take time off. Ben came by a couple of times too. Poor guy — he was genuinely worried. The smile that lit up his face when he saw me awake said it all.

I go in every week for tests to find out if the last round of chemo made a difference and to see how my immune system is reacting. I'm holding on for my mom's sake—I know how much she needs this to work. As for me, I let go of hope a while ago. I'm still fighting, but not for myself... it's for her and my brother. They've already been through enough loss. And if death ever came for me, I don't think I'd have the strength—or the reason—to turn it away.

Cruel?

I know... but inside, I feel numb. I see the sorrow in my mother's eyes, and I know I put it there. My brother spent every day haunted by the fear of losing me—he wept like a child the day he had to say goodbye. All the pain, all the struggle the people I love have endured... it all circles back to me and I hate unintentionally hurting them.

This illness has already dragged my family through so much pain, and sometimes I feel like the only way to stop adding to it is to let go. In time, they'll move on—even if it's slowly. Eventually, the wounds will fade, as time always finds a way to heal what it can.

Letting go isn't a sign of weakness — if anything, I believe it takes strength to release what you can no longer carry.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" Mom asked as I dropped my backpack on the kitchen counter.

"Morning Mom. I'm good. You?" I replied without meeting her eyes. I rifled through my bag for the third time, pretending to check my homework just to avoid her gaze.

Good, good," Mom said with a nod, sliding a bowl of oats toward me. "Eat up.".

"I packed your lunch and added a few snacks for the day," Mom said, barely pausing for breath. "Please remember to eat and take your meds at lunchtime. Your teachers know you might need to step out now and then, so don't hesitate to use the bathroom if you need a break." I gave a small nod, though she probably didn't notice—it was hard to catch subtle things when she was rushing to pack her own lunch.

"Devin, did you hear what I said?" Mom repeated, prompting me to glance up at her. She sure does a good job at covering those dark circles. Her make-up looked impeccable.

"Yes, Mom," I murmured, giving another small nod. I dropped my gaze back to the bowl and resumed eating, spooning the porridge slowly—more for her peace of mind than any real appetite of mine.

I went with a white Nike tee—logo front and center—paired with black skinny jeans and my trusty Nike sneakers as my outfit of choice today.

"If you start feeling unwell, promise me you'll let me know right away. I'll come get you, no matter what," Mom said gently, tilting my chin so our eyes met.

"I will, Mom."

"Alright then. I'll pick you up early from school on Friday—you've got tests, remember," she reminded gently.

Mom dropped me off at school a bit earlier than usual—she had to get to work. Thankfully, a decent number of kids were already there, so I didn't end up alone. I weaved through clusters of students swapping gossip about who hooked up with who and laughing over their weekend adventures. I kept my head down, headed for my locker, and grabbed the books and homework I needed for my first two periods