Teen Ink- short stories

Family: Still handsome

"I hate my hair so much!" I complained to my mother. It had
bothered me all my life, especially in the winter when the wicked wind had a way of turning my hair into a giant knot. That day when I reached over and turned on the heat full blast, I noticed my little brother, Jason, was shivering uncontrollably. I figured it was the chilly temperature, but it seemed odd that a half hour later, he was still cold and complaining that his arm ached. Mom didn't seem fazed, but I realized he had been complaining a lot about his arm lately. The night before I had awakened to hear him crying. I'd crept to his door and listened as he sobbed in the dark, murmuring about his arm. When I told my parents the next morning, they explained he was just having trouble adjusting to kindergarten.
The next day Jay and I were playing in the driveway. We took out the new Power Wheels Jeep he had received for his birthday. When he rode over a bump and toppled out, he began crying Hysterically. As I scampered to him, he was screaming about his arm. The next thing I knew, he began to vomit. I scooped him up and ran inside the house. My mom and I immediately took him to the doctor, who sent us to the hospital. Jay cried the whole way; I had never seen him carry on like that. At the hospital we waited for the X-ray results. The doctor spoke to my mother alone, telling her Jay needed a bone specialist. Later we found that Jason had broken his arm and had bone marrow cancer in that area. I tried not to cry, but I couldn't help it. I wondered why God would do this to my little brother.
If I told you how many times I went to the hospital, you wouldn't believe it. I told myself I had to be strong for Jay, that I couldn't let him see me upset. Our family had to be strong; we would get through this together. Once we were playing Nintendo in his room, I started to cry and Jay did, too, because I was. He didn't understand what was going on. After that I vowed I would not cry again. There was nothing to cry about; Jay would win.
I had no idea what chemotherapy would be like. I didn't know I would spend Christmas day holding my six-year-old brother's hand as he threw up uncontrollably. I never would have guessed he would lose so much weight, that dark circles would form around the sockets that used to hold shining blue eyes. Or that the medication swabs he wiped in his mouth would make him gag and vomit. This little boy went through so much that many could not survive. He was so brave and so strong; It killed me to see other children running around while my brother was cooped up in a hospital room.
But, worst of all, he lost his hair. I recall sitting on the floor of his room playing the hilarious game Hungry Hungry Hippos. I lost miserably every time, which amused him. He'd toss his head back as he erupted in giggles, but when he shook his head, a clump of hair fell onto the red game board and our laughter ceased. We stared at the wispy hair.
'Why is my hair falling out?" he asked innocently. I gulped and replied it was only happening to make him better. He began to scratch his head and more fell out until the board was covered. I bit my lip so hard to keep from crying that it bled.
He looked up and smiled. "Do I still look handsome?"
"You look totally awesome," I choked out. "Just like Michael Jordan."
He started to giggle again. He took the hat my grandmother had bought and tossed it in the laundry bin. He said he was proud to look like Michael Jordan.
That night I cried myself to sleep. I was so worried Jay wouldn't make it. This little boy who had not even finished kindergarten yet had to struggle through each day just to make it to the next. I cried remembering how full of energy he had been only months before. And I cried harder because it just wasn't fair.
The doctor decided Jay needed surgery. We were so nervous, but he got through it perfectly. Finally Jay was on the road to recovery. It was tough. It's hard even to describe what he dealt with. His hair eventually grew back, and he gained weight, too. One day, as I was helping him with his arm brace, I remembered months before when he was diagnosed with cancer. It had been winter, a season I despised because it was always so cold and windy, messing my hair into knots. And I remembered complaining how much I hated my hair. Since then, I never complained again.