Cancer

Cancer | 9

Finally, it was the day of the surgery. All of my closest friends came, there were flowers and cards from my classmates, even my parents came. I believe they only came for formalities sake, but it still meant a lot. There was a deep sadness between us, a connection that would last even if everything else failed. Eventually the moment came to an end. The New Year's game was going to be held much later, but the stadium needed to be taken care of. With many hugs and soft words of farewell, they left. I was all alone in the room again. I had two hours until surgery, so I wrote. I wrote letters to my three best friends, my parents, my teachers and classmates, and my volleyball coach. These letters would not see the light of day unless something went wrong in the surgery. They would be handed out if I died. The doctor came to get me, and I walked shakily to the room of operation. It was clean and white. What in this hospital wasn't clean and white? I was put under and my mind retreated into itself. Slowly, I felt myself fall to a different world. The world of memory. Everything I had done was coming back to me. I could feel the presence of another soul close by. A foreign being, yet somehow familiar and warm. Suddenly, my body was ripped away from my spirit. My spirit wailed in the emptiness, desperately looking for something I knew. The loneliness was unbearable and dark. The black abyss was swirling around me, crushing me, strangling me with the dark hands of death. Then my spirit felt something. It was comforting, and familiar. Every last part of my dying soul wanted to find it. It wrenched itself out of the darkness and fled to the light. To my surprise I found myself in the mind of a boy playing volleyball. I knew this soul. I loved this soul. A wave of emotion came over me. My thoughts melded with the boy's for just a few seconds. in that moment we understood each other fully. He spiked the last ball of his game as he felt everything I was feeling. He understood my death, my care, and my love. The year 3000 was here, and I was ripped from his body. He hit the ground crying. My spirit was brought, by the now gentle lead of death, to a beautiful world. I came willingly, my last feeling shared. My body had been returned somewhat. I could do whatever I wanted. I was happy. A single tear fell from my eye.