What's the problem you may ask. The problem is Spencer and my parents. I haven't told either off them I'm dying. As harsh as it my sound I really don't want to tell my parents. There one of those people that make you feel guilty about anything. They will probably cry until it makes me feel as though it is my fault I inhaled that stupid radiospot. But I need to tell Spencer. He might understand. Of course he will probably act different around me. At least it is only for another six months. Before I leave. My parents. Spencer. Although telling my parents is going to kill me more than this radiospot I know I have to. I reach over to my little bedside and punch in my parents number in the old dust covered phone.
"Hey precious! How are you? What have the doctors said about your seizure? Are you able to come home yet?" she asked cheerily.
" I'm ok thanks. The doctors think my seizure affects have worn off completely. Do you mind if you come into the hospital today? With dad as well? I have something to tell you." I say not half as cheery as my mum sounded.
"Sure darling. How does 2 o'clock sound? Are you sure you're ok? You don't sound yourself." she asked. I can imagine her frowning down the phone and being a little worry wart.
"2 o'clock sounds great mum. Trust me I'm fine. See you then. Love you." I say holding back the tears and biting my lip.
"Love you darling. Bye"
I sit holding the phone in my hand with tears streaming down my face making the phone wet and sticky. My hair is thrown up in messy bun that feels that a crown of throwns as my dry hair digs into my scalp. I clutch my hair and it falls out in clumps. A sign of death. Everything is a sign of death
YOU ARE READING
Flora and Sugar
Подростковая литератураBella is obsessed with Photography but when a terrible party puts her in hospital her world is turned upside down.
