Unpredictable

Chapter 4

River's POV

Oh gosh they're so infuriating. I mean it's bad enough I don't even know how much time I have left, they have to make it worse by not allowing me to do anything. Like it's going to change the fact I am dying.

Guess what, nothing is going to change that fact. So I don't get why they can't let me do what I want to do for now.

Oh no, here they come again.

"River, will you wipe that frown off your face. We are trying to hell you get better," My dad said.

"It's cancer dad, I'm basically already dead."

"Don't say that River. People fight it all the time right Ray?" My mother asked my dad, trying not to tear up.

I remember the doctors saying something about how the cancer could be in my bone or whatever but that would mean I would have to have my leg or arm cut off. To be honest I'd rather they kill me. How the hell am I supposed to live without a leg or an arm?

"Of course they do, and so will you River so stop talking nonsense and take care of yourself. That means no more stupid sports or parties or alcohol."

"It's not a stupid sport dad it's my whole life. I can't just stop doing it. Especially if I may not have a lot of time left to play it."

"River, you have a long life ahead of you, I promise you that."

Well, you're not god dad. What can he even do?

"Whatever, I have to go to Steph's house," I lied. I just can't be here.

"Steph? For what?"

"She's helping me with Spanish. I'm failing you know," I told him.

Thankfully my dad didn't even know I was taking Spanish, let alone failing it so they let me go before reminding me to make sure I learn something so I'm not a failure in life.

~.~

Justin's house was filled with the cliché red cups on the lawn and loud blaring music with teens stumbling out drunk, signifying that I am late and basically missed the whole party. Whatever, there is still the 'VIP after party' as Dawn would call it.

It wasn't really VIP since everyone was invited. But not many people know about it or are still sober to enjoy it so it was usually just the Lacrosse team the Soccer team and some girls.

"RiiiVeerr," Dawn squealed when he saw me, rushing up to me with Justin.

Both their eyes were bloodshot, they must have started without me.

"You better have left some for me."

"Of course wee ddid. We not stuupid," he said as Dawn handed me a joint.

So we just sat there in the bathtub in Justin's parents' bedroom smoking. I know what you're thinking, why the heck am I doing drugs especially since I have cancer.

I don't get why people think that way. I mean most people with cancer are dying. Shouldn't that be a good enough reason for letting them do whatever they want since they have such little time left. But no, instead their parents are all 'Alcohol will worsen your condition' or shit like that.

Like no bitch, they're already fucking dying. Their condition can't be worsen. What is wrong with people?

Some would argue that they still have a chance of fighting the cancer or whatever. But that is stupid. I'm going to go out there and fucking enjoy the last few days or months of my life instead of being super careful and healthy and shit while holding on to the tiny hope that I'll be able to actually live the rest of my life.

Even if I did 'fight' the cancer, I could still relapse. Or the way people would remember me by is the guy survived cancer.

People say it like it's such a huge thing to be proud of, fighting cancer. But it's because you never really fight it or survive it. Once you get cancer, you are stuck with it for the rest of your life. Either you get a devastatingly short life or you are stuck with the horrible memory of the pain.

I remember my doctor telling my parents that depression could be a side effect of cancer and the more I try to explain to them fighting it isn't going to do me any good, the more they are convinced I am depressed.

People say depression is feeling numb, but that's completely bullshit. Depression is feeling like you're drowning. I'm pretty sure I would know if I felt like I'm drowning.

Right now you're probably thinking, it's the joint talking, this fucker has no idea what he's talking about, acting wise and shit. And yeah it probably is the drug talking. I mean a high man is an honest man right? Or was it drunk man...

I'm way into deep to think straight right now. Guess you could say I was thinking gay. Haha, get the joke?

I really do hate taking drugs, but there is a reason I don't get beat up at school despite my straight As. Actually two, one being kissing Dawn and Justin's ass doing shit like this and the second being my girlfriend Steph. Her being so popular and all.

I never really got that, why Steph is so popular. She isn't a cheerleader or anything. Most of her friends are from the debate club. She would be a total geek, if it weren't for the fact she looked like Emma Watson.

So that's why she's popular, because she looks like Emma Watson? This school is so fucking stupid. Why the hell am I even complaining? I'm the school's golden boy or whatever.

"RIVER!" Dawn yelled.

"What?" How dare he interrupt my inner monologue? Is that what it's called? I have honestly no idea.

"COPS!" He yelled.

Cops, that's a funny word. Seriously, are we really that lazy to pronounce the word police? It's just one syllabus more. Or do we think it makes us cooler, using the word cop. It really isn't. Like calling the FBI feds. Did feds come from the word Federal? Because if it did we are practically calling them federal which is just plain stupid.

"Is he even still breathing," I heard a voice say as some bastard pressed his cold fingers on my neck, checking for a pulse. Like what they do when they find a dead body in Criminal Minds. That's kinda cool.

Haha I probably look like a weirdo to them, lying down in a bathtub with my eyes closed, smiling to myself. But hey, it isn't my fault, I am literally the funniest person I have ever met.

"Son, open your eyes and follow us. You are under arrest for under age consumption of drugs. Large amount of drugs from the fact you're not even processing what I'm saying."

Bastard, how dare he assume I don't understand him? I'm high, not stupid. I'm just choosing not to respond to him.

You know what, this bathtub is surprisingly comfortable, I think I'm just going to take a nap.

~.~

What the fuck is that sound, and where the hell am I?

I opened my eyes only to see that I'm in Disneyland. SIKE, I'm in the back of a cop car. I have a faint memory of the cop saying my Miranda rights. Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap. I can't be here. I can't spend the rest of my extremely short life in jail. Maybe they'll let me go if the know I have cancer.

"Sheriff," I said, surprised at how much my throat hurt.

"Keep your mouth shut back there."

"Am I going to jail? I can't go to jail Sherriff. I have cancer, its terminal," okay I might have lied the last part but I NEED to get out of this car.

"Tell it to the judge," was his only reply.

Seriously? How SpongeBob was that?