The Summer Cal Left

Chapter 13

                                                     *Cal’s P.O.V*

   It’s been two weeks since my first chemo treatment, and my hair is gone. Farah hasn’t been over to see it, so I don’t know what she is gonna think about it. I haven’t seen Farah in two whole weeks. Sure we talk on the phone, but she seems distant. It’s like…like she lives in California, and not across the street. Something is on her mind and I can tell. The problem is, I don’t know what and she isn’t offering any details. I just wish she would tell me.

  I don’t blame her for not coming over. Hell, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror. My hair is gone, my skin is pale, and I throw up every hour. My mom flips every time she sees me. She doesn’t burst into tears or anything. But I can see it, there in her eyes, the sadness that she hides. I know it kills her to see her only son dying. I know it hurts to know we don’t have much time left. It kills me, too. I don’t know what’s going to happen to her when I do, you know, pass. She has no one. We lost dad only five years ago, and losing me would just add to the grief.

   Even though I’m sick, deathly sick, it doesn’t feel like I’m…like I’m dying. God has set a path for me and cancer just happened to be one of the stops. I can’t change what will happen in the future because God already has it planned. My story has been written, I just haven’t finished reading it yet. I know I don’t have much time left in this world, but I also know it’s not my time to go yet.

   It almost seems like I was meant to meet Farah from the very beginning. It’s as if God sent her to me so I would keep hope, keep faith, as I developed cancer. Farah is…my guardian angel. She keeps me together as I fall apart inside. She holds me close as the cancer eats me alive, a flesh eating disorder not visible by human eyes. Farah is the love of my life, and will continue to be until my dying day.

   “Has Farah called?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen.

   “Honey you have only been in the shower for fifteen minutes.” My mom replies.

   “A lot can happen in fifteen minutes.” I take a seat at the small wooden table in our kitchen as my mom sets down a plate of eggs in front of me.

   “Will you move that trash can over here?” I ask. She nods and moves it up next to me. I take a bite into my eggs, swallow and then throw up. The chemo causes me to throw up a lot, so I make sure a trash can is accessible.

   “Mom, do you…do you think Farah wants to move on?” I ask as she takes a seat next to me.

   “No, I don’t. I can tell that girl loves you, Cal. She has been in love with you for quite some time. Why would you question that?” She replies.

   “Well, it’s just…lately she has been acting weird. She doesn’t come over, and we don’t talk much. It’s like something is on her mind, but I don’t know what.”

  “Death does that to people, you know. Even though you’re not dead, you’re dying. Farah isn’t taking that lightly.”

  “I know, I know.” I shake my head and continue eating my breakfast. Maybe I’ll go over and talk to Farah today. Maybe I won’t. I just don’t know anymore.

  “Well honey, don’t stress over it. Farah will come to you when she’s ready. You just have to let her grieve right now.”  She stands up and takes my empty plate, heading over to the sink.

  “Maybe your right,” I say over my shoulder, “maybe I should just leave her alone.” I sigh and stand up, pushing in my chair. “I’m gonna take a walk.” I head out the front door and down the concrete sidewalk. I stare at Farah’s house as I walk by, wondering what she’s doing. Is she thinking about me? Does she miss me? I don’t know, but what I do know is that I’m missing her. Her distance from me is killing me inside. She’s slowly ripping me apart. The cancer won’t be the cause of my death, but merely a broken heart.

  I stuff my hands in my pockets and keep my head down as I walk down the grassy path towards the tree house. I climb up the worn out ladder to the platform above. I take a seat in the middle of the tree house, looking around me at the markings on the walls.

  Cal and I’s one month anniversary 7/7/10, I read to myself. Farah wrote that two weeks ago when I was at chemo. She refused to go after what happened the first time.

  A silent tear be trades me, falling down my pale cheek. I bow my head in silence, fear leaking from my eyes. I’m scared…scared that Farah will leave me and I’ll be forced to fight this battle alone. I can’t live unless she is by my side. I cannot win against cancer if she gives up on me. She is my only reason for breathing. When your oxygen is taken away, dying is your only option.