As much as I hate to admit it, I'm scared. I'm terrified. I don't want to die. I miss being able to perform daily tasks without getting tired. I'm tired of coughing up my blood. I'm tired of being exposed to an unnecessary amount of radiation that'll only make me worse. I miss everything I used to be. I miss being me. If there's a God in this damned world, then he has a very strange sense of humor. He let my so called "father" walk out on us, shoved all of his bills on my mom , and take her son away that supports the family. Guess I never really believed in a greater power 'til recently. Even though I fully understand that I don't have much time left, I act ignorant about it. I'm not giving up just yet. I have to stay alive for my family.
After one of my many chemotherapy sessions assigned for today, my doctor came back with a clipboard in hand. I wanted to smack the look of pity off his face, but my body was too weak to respond to my brain's orders. Bitterness started to cloud my mind and a frown appeared on my face. What did I do to deserve this? I've been a good person throughout half of my life! My mother ,which was sitting right next to me the past couple of days, squeezed my hand in reassurance. She told me verbally that everything was going to be fine, yet her tears streaming down her face told me otherwise. Nathan was curled up beside me, his hands tightly clung around my sides. He was fast asleep after he balled his eyes out for me like every night. I'm tired of them feeling bad for me. My sister, Allie, was standing in the doorway. Tears were threatening to spill from her bloodshot eyes. The doctor walked to the edge of my bed and cleared his throat.
"We regret to inform you, Ryan. Your leukemia has gotten worse. I hate to inform you that you have two weeks to live." The doctor said with counterfeit concern. I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head. He must have the wrong person. I'm perfectly fine. I'm not going to die. I laughed bitterly, pushed Nathan off, and sat up.
"No, no, no, no, Doc. You must have the wrong person, you see? I'm getting better. My body was just in pain, 's all. Nothing major." I said with a kind smile. My head suddenly felt indescribably light. I felt something hot burn its way up through my throat. I doubled over the bed and the strong taste of iron filled my mouth. I gagged as more blood dripped from my nose. My mom started to sob next to me. Allie quickly moved from the door and took my mom into her arms and rocked her back and forth. Nathan woke up from his nap and stared at me with confused, swollen eyes.
The doctor murmured underneath his breath and re-adjusted his reading glasses. "Mr. Terry.... We can go through the procedures again, and we can offer more chemotherapy if you'd like, but it is certain that you have two weeks to live. Maybe less..." the doctor said hesitantly. Anger started to boil the useless blood in my veins. I grabbed the heart monitor next to me, and I threw it directly at the Doctor. The IVs that were injected in me ripped out, leaving gashes and gaps adorning my arms.
"BULLSHIT. COMPLETE BULLSHIT! I'M 21! I CAN'T DIE NOW. I SUGGEST YOU GO BACK TO YOUR LITTLE LAB AND GET YOUR SHIT RIGHT." I screamed with all my might. I felt venom drip from each and every word I said. The doctor groaned and quickly left the room without saying another word. That's what I thought, asshole.
"Ryan! What the hell is wrong with you?" Allie said stepping away from my mother. Hostile laughter erupted from my sore throat.
"What's wrong with me? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME? Everything's wrong with me, Allie! Take a look around. If you have haven't noticed, I'm going to fucking die in less than two weeks! That's what's wrong. Stop being a damn idiot!" I yelled. Allie visibly flinched and backed away. Fear danced in her eyes. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose as guilt slammed into me like a tidal wave. I shouldn't of screamed at her.... God, I'm such a prick.
