~Aspyn's POV~
{Picture is of Aspyn's Outfit}
I wake up at about seven o'clock in the morning. I'm actually not tired today. I put on my glasses and walk into the bathroom, where I brush my hair and teeth, put in my contacts, and I put on a minimal amount of makeup—powder foundation, mascara, and eyeliner.
Today I am going to visit my mother in the hospital. I end up having Dawson drop me off, because I hate driving—especially after the accident. I only trust few people, but not myself. We pull up in front of the hospital and I hop out of the car. Dawson tells me when he'll come back to get me and all that stuff. I can't wait to see my mom, I've missed her so much.
I have gotten a lot better at dealing with my depression ever since all this good stuff has happened in my life. I made a new friend at a new school, I got my very first boyfriend, my mother is getting healthier, and my brother and I are closer than ever. My dad and I are still the same as we were when I was five, ten, fifteen. Our dynamic has never really changed.
I walk into my moms' tiny hospital room with a small bouquet of flowers. Three lilies, two poppies, and a single red rose.
"Hey Mom!" I cheer. I place the bouquet on her nightstand and I take a seat on the tiny couch parallel to the bed.
"Hello honey. Long time no see!" She jokes with me.
"I'm sorry, but I have big news!" I can't sit still.
"Well... What is it?"
"I got a date to prom! And I've got a boyfriend, and I already got my dress."
"That's great honey!" She smiles a small smile.
"What is it?" My face falls.
She's quiet for five seconds, but that was five seconds too long. "The doctors ran some tests when I first got here."
"Yeah, and?" I inquire.
"The results came back earlier today, and..." She's having trouble telling me this news. Is she sick? Dying?
"And what? Mom, spit it out before you choke on it." I'm scared for what's about to hit me like a train.
"...and the results said that the reason why I haven't been feeling my best, and the reason why I was on the floor passed out was because I have cancer." The last word rang in my head over and over and over again. Cancer? This can't be. No! I won't let my mom die because of some stupid disease. I become immobile. I'm just staring at her face, hoping that I'll see it a million times more.
"I need some air, I'll be right back." I walk out of the room so my mother doesn't have to see me crying. I walk out into the parking lot, I don't know what to do. This is the worst news ever. Why? This news is starting to trigger my emotions in the worst way possible. Instead of going back to see my mom, I run home, where there's nobody here, and I run upstairs. I take out my razor blades I keep in the bottom of my second drawer. I take a few deep breaths and count to three in my head. I look away because I'm highly squeamish. I press the blade into my skin and I faintly cry out in pain. I do this three more times up my right wrist, and then I start my second cut on my left wrist when the bathroom door bursts open. It's Miles. Shit. I forgot we were going to have a movie marathon today at my house.
I meet his gaze and I start bawling. He comes and holds my shaking body, which is now curled in a ball on the white tiled floor. He runs his hand up and down my hair and whispers reassuring things like 'everything's okay,' and 'shh, you're fine'. These words never seem to help. I'm still bleeding out of my wrists. After I've managed to stop shaking so much, he wraps my wrists and asks me to tell him what's wrong. I give the news and that's when I start crying again. She's not okay. She's not healthy. I'm too done with everything to tell Miles off because he said that she would be okay. With him supporting my weight—I'm still shaking—I rinse my face with cold water and we watch a bunch of horror movies. I'm not really paying much attention, though. I can't wrap my head around what my mother told me.
