Make a Wish || Rhett and Link

Chapter 66 - Clippers

"H-Hey Link, can you come here for a moment?" I whispered.

Link and his family were over for dinner, like they were every other week. I was hesitantly preparing myself for what I was about to ask him to do.

"Sure." He got up and followed me into the bathroom. I took a nervous breath and shoved Rhett's beard clipper into his hands.

"I-I need you to c-cut my hair."

He looked down at the clipper, then up at me. "Huh?"

"I-I don't w-wanna go through losing it again." I mumbled. "P-Please, I n-need you to cut it."

"Cooper..." He took a nervous, long breath in. "I don't think I can do this."

"Please!" I pleaded. "Y-You've got to cut it o-off! I don't w-want to go through it all a-again! T-The first time was t-torture!"

"But you worked so hard to grow it back!" He frowned. "I don't, no. It's not fair. I'm not cutting it, Cooper."

"B-But!"

"No, okay?" He sighed, placing the clippers back in the box that I'd found it in.

"B-But I d-don't wan-na... I n-need to do it."

"If you still want to do it the night before you go back, then I'll cut your hair for you. But not now. Not while there's still 3 days."

I sniffled and nodded. I guess he was right. It was a little early. But I was so scared of making the same mistakes as last time.

<<< Flashback <<<

"Cooper, honey, you need to let me cut it for you." Mom almost had to plead. "You're going to regret not listening to me."

"I'm not cutting it." I stated firmly, grabbing the ends of my hair protectively. "I'm not going to make myself look like someone who has cancer if I don't have to."

"Just let her do what she wants." Dad muttered from the corner, looking at his phone. "It's her choice."

Mom sighed and put the clippers away. "If you change your mind, Cooper, I'll cut it when you need."

The next day was my first ever round of chemotherapy. I was walking in there a normal teenager, and coming out a teenager with cancer. Not straight away of course, the doctors had been very clear that my case was so severe that I needed to be kept in the hospital, so that they could keep an eye on me. Mom carried my bag of pyjamas and blankets and other things for the hospital room, and Dad just kind of looked straight ahead. He seemed to be attempting to avoid his emotions, probably just thinking about work or something like that. I was doing that too. Instead of focusing on the impossible task ahead of me, I was just thinking about last night's GMM episode. I was wearing the shoes that Abby had made me for my birthday. She'd bought a pair of plain white sneakers and drawn all over them in mythical patterns. I didn't have money around to buy my own mythical shoes, so she made me some. They were still my favourites, and so I wore them today, hoping some of their mythical luck would rub off on me.

The hospital room was where we were taken first by the doctors. I had to get changed, straight into my pyjamas for however many days I'd be spending here. Mom set up my pillows and extra blanket on the bed to make it nice, and Harper was just flicking through the food menu that was on the bedside table. Dad looked out the window and grunted. "They could've given you a better view."

"Maybe." I whispered, tying my hair back in a ponytail.

"It doesn't matter, Daniel." Mom murmured. "The rooms with a view of the garden were three times as much. This'll do fine."

He muttered something before sitting down and going back to his phone. I wasn't sure, but I was feeling like this wasn't what was supposed to happen. From what I'd heard, they'd be hugging me and telling me it was all going to be okay. Instead, nobody talked, and everybody just tried to comprehend what was going on for the sake of themselves.

When the doctor came back, she gently clipped a hospital band onto my wrist. My name, my age, my condition, my allergies, everything. I fiddled with it slightly, but mostly just pretended that nothing was wrong.

"Ready to begin?" She asked us.

The chemotherapy ward was nicer than my room, and the lounge chair that they'd sat me in was remarkably comfortable. It was awkward that my whole family was trying to fit into this tiny space, but it was nice that they were there, despite the fact that nobody was actually talking to each other.

I ended up picking a movie that I knew we all liked, and we all sat there as the drug was administered by a needle in my neck. It hurt, a lot, but I didn't want to worry Mom more. She already seemed like she could break down in tears at any point.

When it was over, I was kind of tired, and Mom and Dad held my hands as we walked back to the hospital room. I curled up under the sheets, and fell asleep almost instantly.

Over the next few days, I noticed the effects immediately. The first real sign came when I threw up my dinner halfway through the meal. The next sign came when I had my first shower since I'd gotten here.

Clumps of my hair sat at the bottom of the shower. I'd tried to wash my hair, keep it heathy. And yet there were about 5 big clumps of my hair sitting there.

That was the first day in hospital I cried.

And Mom tried to convince the doctors to let her cut my hair, but they refused to let her bring the clippers for the safety risk.

So every day a little bit more fell out. I'd find some on my pillow, some at the bottom of the shower, a lot in my hair brush.

And after two weeks, it was all gone.