limited time | ross lynch

my story

мɪᴀ
I'm Mia, and you may be wondering what my issue is. No, I'm not just like your average teenage girl, though I really wish I could be. No I'm not morbid over a break up, or furious with my best friend. My condition is different.

I have a problem. A problem within my body. Within my blood. Most kids and teens don't worry about getting this, they think it's just a thing. Just a thing, that if you're lucky, you don't gain unto you. But that's not it. Not at all.

I have stage three leukemia, a cancer within my blood cells. And I've realized, once you tell a living being that you have cancer, they flee. Almost all of them seem to vacate, seeming to leave you alone, and to fend for yourself. Perhaps, my father for example. He left me and my mother when I was thirteen. That's when we had first found out that I was diagnosed with cancer. He said that the treatment would be too much money, and he couldn't give up that much.

So with that, he left. He took all of his stuff, and waved goodbye. I wasn't important enough to him. My cancer and me being sick meant nothing to him. He didn't care that his only daughter was dying, he didn't care. He only cared about himself, and his money. What a jackass.

And everyone else in the world sees you differently. Just because I bruise and bleed easily doesn't make me any different from anyone else. But to them I'm not normal. I'm not worth it. I'm covered in scars, and I'm going to die anyways, so why would they waste their time on me? Well, I didn't have to worry about it, because nobody wasted their time on me. Hence why I have no friends, whatsoever.

My mom is my only support system. She keeps me strong, and alive most of the time. She tells me I'm a fighter, and that just because I have cancer, I shouldn't give up on my dreams. I can still do anything every other person in this world can do.

The side effects of my cancer sometimes, well, effect me. I get dizzy fairly easily, and more often than an average human. I get fevers a lot, and I lose my appetite most of the time. I also get nosebleeds and mouth ulcers. And I get weak really easily, too. So, I guess it does kind of hold me back. I lose so much weight to, but that's also just a sign of having leukemia.

I still sort or chuckle at the fact that my name is Mia. My cancer literally has my name in it. It's very weird, but I mean, I guess that it was meant to be. I was meant to get sick, and to not live a normal teenage life.

Financially, well, I guess my mom is doing ok. She works two jobs so that she can pay for our house, and for my treatments. She works so hard, just for me. I feel like such a terrible daughter, because I can't get a job like other teens. I just want to help my mom pay for anything she needs. And she's been talking about getting a third job, but that is definitely not an option. She's on her feet twenty- four seven, working her ass off. But for what? For her daughter that's only going to die anyways? Precisely.

I honestly don't know why I'm not dead yet. How am I still alive. More importantly, why? I should've been deceased alone time ago. My corpse put into a coffin and shoved into the ground as my mom waved goodbye. We would both be out of pain. She could stop worrying about me all the time and focus on herself. Get a day off maybe, and relax. She deserves it, she needs it.

And I would be out of pain.

My bones and joints are constantly causing me pain, and there are always these weird red spots that appear on my skin every once in a while. And I have shortness of breath so terribly, almost everyday. I just want it all to go away. I want it all to end already.

I want to be happy. I want this to be cured. But all it has done has gotten worse over the years. My mom says I'm lucky. She says, 'Mia, you're a fighter, you're a survivor.'

But I'm not.

I don't do anything but sit on my lazy ass all day and do nothing while my amazing mother is on her feet, working for us to have money. I frequently go on walks, but I can't go far. Sometimes I go to the park and sit down just to look at the clouds, and the bright flowers. But other than that, I'm useless. I'm a nothing. Maybe I deserve to have cancer. But my mom surely doesn't deserve what she's been going through.

She's had to cope with her mother dying, then her father. Then her husband, the first and only man she'd ever loved, left her. Because of me. And to top it all off, her only daughter has cancer, and is about to die anyways. I don't want my mom to have no one when I'm gone. I want her to be happy. Happy without me.

So that's my life. It's not very interesting, not at all. But when I die — not if, but when — it will all be over.

I'll be done here. Causing no one else pain or misery. The end.