Seven Days

Chapter Two

Our “date” ended, and let me tell you, it was the most wonderful date ever. (I’m not giving details though.) It’s ten in the evening. I need to be home by ten fifteen. Cameron is still driving me to my house. I am sitting here patiently on the passenger’s seat while looking at Cameron. He seems so familiar. Why is that? I am pretty sure that I don’t know anybody else named Cameron. I am pretty sure that I never met him before either, or have I? No, I haven’t. The name “Cameron” is very unfamiliar to me, but his face, it’s so familiar. That short black hair, I know I’ve seen that before on a kid about two years older than me when I was younger; and his eyes, those are the same chocolate brown eyes I’ve seen on my best friend who eventually left me.

No, he can’t be John. No way. John left me when we were in California, and John is somewhere in Canada now. After John left, we moved here to Spring Valley, Illinois. So no, that cannot be possible.

As I think of Cameron resembling John more, we get nearer and nearer to my house. Wait, how’d he know the way to my house? Though that question bothers me, I don’t ask him this. I just wait until we get to my house.

As we get to my house, he actually rushes out his door just to open my door. Wow, how gentlemanly-ish. As I get out of the car, I say, “Thank you… for this.”

“You’re welcome, Alexandra,” he says with a sweet smile on his face that reminds me of John. Oh, gosh, John.

“But why?”

“Why what?” he asks calmly. His smile disappears though

“Why did you do this? You don’t even know me.”

He comes closer to me until his lips reach my ear. He whispers, “One day, you’ll know why.” With that he disappears with his car.

Who is he? How come I feel like I know him so much? Whatever, just keep that all in the back of your mind, Alexandra. You’ve got to face your parents now, I think.

As I get to my front doorstep, I open the door and walk through it. As I go inside, I hear some sobbing. Either my mom is sobbing because one of her favorite characters from her favorite movie is dead, or because I have something to do with it. As I go inside the living room, I see Mom and Dad sitting on the living room couch. Dad is hugging Mom to his chest while Mom is leaning on his chest and crying. Oh, no, the TV’s not on. Yup, Mom’s crying because of me.

As soon as Dad notices my presence, he mumbles to Mom some words that I do not catch at all. Mom and Dad let go of each other and Dad stands up, walks to where I am, and hugs me. I hug Dad back, of course. Mom stays on the couch. Mom wipes her tears and cleans herself up. She looks like a mess. Literally.

Dad says to me as he lets me go, “Honey, sit down.” I follow my Dad’s order. “We love you, and you know that, right?” I nod with a smile. My dad takes a deep breath and then says, “Look, it’s not easy for us to say this, but… here it goes. Honey…,” he pauses. He takes a deep breath again. He says, “Your doctor called, he said you might…, you might be…, you might be dead in seven days.”

My eyes start to water. My smile drifts away. I feel like I have a loss for words. I don’t know what to say. I feel like I’m suddenly punched in the stomach. Wow, I thought I could take hearing those kinds of news. But no, I can’t cry. I need to be strong. I need to. I take deep breaths to calm myself down. I don’t cry, nor do I sob. I just sit looking at my father who has tears in the corners of his eyes. I can see that he wipes it away because he wants to look strong. He wants to tell us that he is strong. Maybe that’s where I got my strength. From Dad, I mean.

Mom goes to where I am sitting. She hugs me. I don’t move. I am still too shocked to respond. I can’t find any words. I can’t move. I don’t know how to. All I’m doing is breathing. Mom tells me, “I’m so sorry, honey. I love you so much.” Mom lets go of me, but I still stay still. Suddenly, I forget how to do anything, though I don’t forget how to breathe. I wish I do though. I wish I didn’t know how to breathe anymore, so this all can be over now.

After a few moments, my mom and dad sit down on the couch again and I snap out of it. I calm myself down. I remember how to move again. I respond to what they all just said. I say, “Might, Dad? Or will? And is that it?” Suddenly, I’m as hard and cold as a statue.

No answer.

“I mean is that all? Is that the news? I can take that. I know I’m dying anyway. You guys know it, too. You don’t have to be sad over such little news. I’m dying, Mom, Dad. You guys know that,” I say.

“We didn’t raise you to be like this,” says Mom who is now crying again.

“Of course you didn’t, Mom. You raised me to be the most perfect child ever,” I answer almost immediately as my mom finished her sentence. “Mom, look. I’m sorry, but I’m dying. You don’t have to cry anymore. I AM DYING. There’s no more Alexandra that will fail you anymore. It’s been a fun life, Mom. I love you guys, and you know that, but I guess it’s time for me to go. Sorry.”

Mom stands up and says, “What happened to you?” With those last words, she takes off like a teenager who just got her first heartbreak. Dad follows her, leaving me behind.

I stay where I am for a few more seconds then I go to my room. As I enter my room, I see my mom and dad sitting on the bed. Mom’s face is facing Dad’s chest. Her face is pressed up to Dad’s chest. Dad hugs her as if she was a little kid. Dad is focusing on Mom. They don’t acknowledge my presence yet. Mom looks up to Dad and then says something that I think I am not supposed to hear. She says, “I wish I never had a daughter, so I didn't have to experience this kind of pain.” Now, that hurts. Hearing my mother say that hurts a lot. I can’t believe my mom even dared to put those words together to build a sentence like that. A sentence that would hurt me a lot.

I make my parents notice me by saying, “Mom, Dad.” They both look at me. I say, “I’m sorry for being so insensitive. Sorry. I’m dying, Mom. I mean what do you expect? Sorry.”

My parents stand up simultaneously and hug me. I hug them back. “We love you so much. Don’t you forget it, okay?” Mom says with a hint of sadness found in her voice.

“I love you, too,” I say to my mother. I pause a bit because I sort of felt like a tears about to escape my eye. “But what kind of pain am I, Mom?” I ask almost inaudibly. I know it seems so insensitive of me to ask that, but I had to.

She doesn’t answer me. She just hugs me tightly. Maybe she didn’t hear me, and, now, I can’t repeat that sentence. I can’t and don’t want to ruin the moment.

Okay, these are my parents. They love me. I love them. They never do anything to hurt me on purpose. I can tell that they love me more than anything, but since my mom said that she regrets having a daughter, I’m not so sure anymore. I love them anyway. So much. So much more than my life. They are my best friends (well, so is John, but I guess he left me). They always will be. They never leave me. They’re always there when I need them, and I would trade anything just to have them here until my dying breath which is in seven days, I guess.

Okay, I gotta spend my last days here on Earth wisely. I need to make a list.

1.     Break a heart.

2.     Cry.

3.     Go on a picnic.

4.     Go to prom.

5.     Get a first dance.

6.     Kiss a guy.

7.     Fall in love.

Okay, maybe not the last part. I guarantee that I will never fall in love. Never.