Remember me, Forget me, Miss me

Chapter Three

Chapter three

I wake from the sound of a slam. I groan, wanting to go back to sleep, knowing that my little sister would be coming up stairs and asking me, “what should I eat?” We went through this every day. I always respond, “I don't know, what do you want to eat?” Of course then that would result her into tears and screaming, “what should I eat!” and me irate saying that she needed to decide by her self.

I tense waiting to be ambushed by my six year old sister, Lily. I brace myself to say, 'I do not know what you should eat.' But it was not Lily who opened the door. It was my dad.

I smile thankful that when my little sister came behind him with a happy meal from Micky'Ds. “Whats up Daddy dearest?”

“Your mother wants us to clean up the house and start making dinner.” I study my father for a second. He looked nervous almost like he was guilty, running a hand through his almost nonexistent blonde hair. He was a short man no taller than 5'8 and had a potbelly.

I mull this over for a moment, “Grandmas coming over isn't she?” Every time Gran came over we always had to clean the house spotless or else she wouldn't shut up about it until the day she left.

Dad laughed and said, “no Moms having the neighbors over.”

“Oh, what ones?” I really hope it wasn't the Martins. Something about them bugged me, maybe it was that they had a first name for a last name or they named one of their kids Marty. Marty Martin. Poor kid.

Dad looked at the ground, “eh, you know, the new ones.”

I looked horrified at him, “Dad no!” He knew how I felt about meeting new people. He had agreed that they wouldn't force meeting new people on me.

“I'm sorry Mel, your mom thinks that it would be healthy for you.”

I narrow my eyes and glare at my pretty guitar that I was cradling in my hands. “Mom isn't always right.”

Lily butted in and screamed, “Yes she is!” then crying ran away.

I look in amazement as my little sister goes, “Okay, so did she really just go and cry over that?” I mean its like that little girl is more emotional then teenage girl. I had a feeling that little Lily would end up with my therapist some day.

My Dad shakes his head and says, “Please Mel? Just this once I swear I'll get you out of any other ones. Just go and clean the living room, that's all. I'll tell your mother that you started to get a pain in your stomach and you can stay in your room all night.”

I swallow because something he said rubbed me the wrong way. “Fine.”

I didn't add that there probably would not be a next time. But I didn't want to bring that up. I also didn't want to hide from the world just because I had terminal cancer. And when I felt good I wanted to at least pretend to be a normal healthy girl. I would not hide away from the world. I got up off the floor and take in a sharp breath because my stump hurt from me sitting on the floor for so long.

I glide out of the room without a look at my Dad, he really needed to go read, 'How to Understand my Teenager' again. Clearly he did not understand me at all to any point. I mean, did I want to help set up the house for people I didn't want to meet? No, not really. Would I do it just because my mom desperately wanted me to? Yes, of course. So there was no reason for my dad bring up my cancer. None at all. He also didn't have to give me permission to stay in my room, I would have done that anyway.

I sigh, because now I have to be stubborn and rebellious and act like the perfect daughter all night long, just in spite of my father, I really didn't want to either. It was just a teenager thing. Its in the teenager book of how to 'Prove Your Parents Wrong 101.' Its a book every person at the age of thirteen receives and every twenty five year old forgets. Well, almost every twenty five year old anyways.