Sad Short Stories

Cancer

We were running outside, the warm sun breathing on our backs as we ran with each other by the salty, large body of water that would come closer to us ever so often. I splashed her, her curly hair falling over her face as she splashed water back at me. We were laughing, we were smiling.

I woke up, the beeps from the machine that had been plugged into my used to be crazy, fun, wild, blonde mother, now sad, hopeless, and doubtful. I knew she wasn't going to make it, no one you ever cared about made it unless they were miracles.

"I'm no miracle Kennedy" I heard her say to father about 3 months earlier. "We'll have to tell her, we can't keep something like this away from her." I heard my mother weeping, her sad tears falling slowly out of her swampy green eyes, her beautiful, mesmerizing, swampy green eyes that I knew I would miss dearly.

"Mr. O'Dylan and young miss." I looked up behind me to see a teary eyed man, the man that had been wanting to save my mother, to keep her here. "We need you to come into this room here." The doctor walked us to the room next to my mother's room, a darker room painted in pale blues and pale greens. The walls were dark because this side of this stupid place I'd been living in, to be with my mother, no one was ever happy. People would quit coming, because of the darkness that surrounded the warriors who lost their lives to the terrible war that was 'cancer' .

"It's a tragedy, none of the chemo-therapy worked." He said sadly

"I understand this may be a lot to take in" He said choking on his words

"May your family live in peace, may your family be loved by whatever lord you may praise."

I looked into the sky then after a couple minutes of thinking I tilted my head down.
'Why my mother? Why do you see the need to do this? Why God?'  I turned my head towards my father, I could see the pain, the weakness, the sorrow in his eyes. It made me cry even more, both me and my father had red, puffy, and tired eyes. I sometimes woke from nightmares only to see my mother crying in her sleep, the pain she felt was almost unbearable for her, and it hurt me.

I handed my card I had written out for my mother and handed it to my father, he smiled at me. "Eh, a carnation, your mother's favorite flower." I looked to my dad as he looked at the card, the large pink carnation I had painted on it and the words written in it.

Dear Elizabeth O'Dylan, my mother

    Stay the big, humble, loving loser I've always loved. You'll forever be in my heart. Every year, on this day, I will write to you, I'll have a collection of letters for you, so when I join you, me and you can run through the woods, by the ocean side, yelling like the wild animals we are. I'll take care of father, I promise, he needs me after all, he can't even make toast right. You've always been my Michelle Pfeiffer. I love you, I'll miss you. Forever you belong in my heart.

                                                                                                            With all the love in the world
                                                                                                                 Your crazy, and goofy daughter
                                                                                                                     Delilah O'Dylan

I smiled at my letter, crying still, crying so much that the migraine in my head becomes worse by the second. I give the letter to my father, who then leaves to speak with my mother, I stood by the doorway looking in seeing my dad strumming on his old guitar. "She told me to sing for her, mind being my backup singer?" My dad looked at me with puffy eyes, I shook my head 'yes'.
I cracked the biggest smile when my father started strumming the chords to the song my mother named me after. 

"It's what you do to me. What you do to me..." I finished the song with the last 'oh' . I then held my mother's hand for the last time

"Be yourself, and don't let anyone get to you." Her last words to me. "I love you" I whispered to her. I felt a hand rub the back of my neck, slowly moving his hand over my neck and right under my neck, my dad stood there comforting me the best way he could.

Be yourself, and don't let anyone get to you



I wanted to take a quick moment to say thank you for reading this, I understand it's sad but I wanted to point out, none of this is about me. Small details in this story are like my great grandmother though.

She died because of lung cancer, I regret not being with her as much as I should have, but when I found out she had passed, I got insanely sick and depressed while I was at school. I would excuse myself from class to go talk to myself. One of the very last things my great grandmother ever said to me was "Be yourself, and don't let anyone get to you" It's very powerful to me and I feel as if I can connect to the saying very well. She understood me when almost nobody else did. I write letters so when I see her again one day I can re-connect with her, I want to talk to her again, but sadly, that will take a while. I miss her, but she always taught me, keep truckin'  and you'll have your luck in. I'll always miss her green eyes and curly hair and wacky personality.

I grew up christian but I couldn't pray to God that she'd been saved only because we found out about her having cancer too late.