The Untold Stories {Wattpad Prize Entry}

The Boy You Made Fun of For Crying? His Mother is Dying

"Okay class, today we're going to be learning about cancer," Announced my health teacher, Mrs. Bemis. My head snapped up in attention at the word cancer; it was one that I was very familiar with, but wasn't used to hearing it around school. She did the usual routine and asked if anyone knew what cancer was. Nobody raised their hands so she began to explain.

"Cancer is an uncontrolled growth of abnormal cells in the body," She told us. I tuned out the rest of the lesson. I had done enough Google searches to know all I wanted to about cancer. I probably could've given the lesson myself.

My mind drifted off and started thinking about last night. The worst night of my life.

Yesterday afternoon, almost exactly twenty-four hours ago, my mom fainted suddenly and was rushed to the hospital. I didn't know about this until I got home from school, so I soon as I got the news, I rushed over. The doctor hadn't diagnosed her yet, so we spent a few hours pacing around the waiting room anxiously.

After what seemed like years—but was probably a few hours, the doctor came out and told us of her condition.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," He began. My heart dropped, but I stayed strong for my younger brother and sister. Somebody needed to. "The cancer has gotten worse. We barely have the medicine to treat it. It would take too much work and effort on her part and just exhaust her, but we can try our best. No promises," He added firmly.

Gabi squeezed my hand and I squeezed back, feeling her pain. David just stood beside my dad, a blank expression on his face. I didn't let that fool me. I knew that behind the mask was a torrent of emotions; I had put up the same one many times.

"Can we see her now?" asked my dad. The doctor nodded and stepped aside to lead us through the narrow hallway.

When we entered her room, I was used to the strong odor of chemicals that perfumed the room and her frail, skinny body lying on the bed limply. What I wasn't used were the tears leaking from her eyes. We crowded around her bed and waited for her to speak.

"What's wrong, mommy?" asked Gabi when she didn't. My mom made a face as if Gabi had stabbed her in the gut. She took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions under control.

"I'm tired," was the only thing she said. We nodded understandingly, her treatments always exhausted her.

"No. I mean, I'm tired. I'm tired of all this; the treatments, the fatigue, the medicine, the regained hope then the lost hope. The doctor told me that they barely had the medicine to treat my cancer. I don't want to die hooked up to a bunch of machines in a cold hospital room. I want to die surrounded by my family,"

The room became deathly quiet as everyone processed out the meaning of her words. Her words of defeat.

It felt like the world had crumbled around me. I wanted to say that I hadn't heard her correctly, but she spoke in a clear voice and she had been the only one talking. I shook my head, as if doing so would erase the past, but no such luck. Everyone was still speechless with shock.

I couldn't believe this. I didn't want to believe this. But, the sight of my mom lying in the hospital bed told me that this was really happening. My mom was giving up. The strongest person I knew was giving up. What kind of example was that supposed to pose for me? I felt as if my heart had been torn into little tiny pieces that you can't put back together no matter how hard you try.

"If that's what you want," My dad said softly. He was the only one of us speaking. Gabi was probably still trying to figure out what she meant. She probably didn't really understand since she was only five years old.

We told the doctor of her plans and he allowed us to bring her home that evening. He told us she had approximately thirty-six hours left to live. I had already wasted twelve of those precious hours sleeping and going to school. I was anxious for the bell to ring so I could go home already.

That night, for the first time in two years, I cried. The last time I cried was when we found out about the cancer and now I was crying because she was giving up. I cried for my little sister, who wouldn't have a mother to care for her while she was growing up. I cried for my little brother, who wasn't that little anymore, he was just turning thirteen and entering the troubles of being a teenager and wouldn't have his mother around to comfort him through trial and error. I cried for my father, whose wife was dying, the person he had planned to spend the rest of his life with.

But, most of all, I cried for myself. I was losing my mother, my advisor, my confider, to this horrid disease. She was going to die and I was never going to be able to see her beautiful smile again, or her tinkling laugh. I would never hear her scold me for tracking mud in the house or hear her voice call me up the stairs for dinner.

"Look, he's crying," said a voice, snapping me out of my reverie. I looked over to where the voice came from and saw you sitting there with a haughty look on your face. The onlookers sniggered at your comment and you smiled in triumph. I brushed at my cheeks and realized that I had been crying.

"What a baby. You want a bottle, baby?" You cooed in a baby voice. I wiped the tears from my face, clenched my jaw to control the feeling of rage that threatened to overtake me, and faced forward. We were watching a documentary about people living with cancer and that's what you thought I was crying about. Good. You didn't need to know the truth. I didn't need your pity.

As soon as the bell rung, I ran out of there as if my ass were on fire. I went straight to my car and speeded home. My father had spent the day with her and was there to open the door for me when I got home.

"Is she . . .?" I didn't want to say the word aloud.

"No. she's still here," He answered, knowing what I was referring to. I nodded and moved past him, heading towards his bedroom where Gabi already lay beside the bed, chattering to my mom about some pre-school drama. It was an hour before David arrived.

We all sat around her bed, talking and laughing as if we didn't have a care in the world. I wanted to believe that we didn't, but the tears glinting in her eyes would snap me back to reality. We stayed up late into the night, talking and reminiscing. A conversation about Gabi’s birth had her very animated, but suddenly; her body slouched against the bed, as if she had run out of steam.

"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly. It can't be time yet; you can't take my mother from me so soon!

My mom shook her head and motioned for us to come closer.

"It's time for me to go," she whispered.

"No Mommy, you can't," Gabi grasped her hand desperately, trying to keep her here. Our tears stained the bed sheets as they fells from our eyes.

"Don't cry, just know I'm in a better place now, I won't be suffering any longer," She looked at us all with nothing but complete love and adoration in her eyes, and just a hint of sorrow. "I love you all," she breathed. She closed her eyes and exhaled her last breath.

Gabi threw herself onto her, sobbing and moaning about her mommy being gone and my father did his best to comfort her. David just stood off to the side, his mask on, but tears still streaming down his face.

"She's really gone, isn't she," He said, It was more a statement than a question. I nodded. The mask broke and his face crumpled up. I embraced him, knowing that we both needed a hug at the moment.

You'll probably never know the reason I was crying in class that day and I'll probably never tell you. People like you aren't worth my time. People who just go around, insulting people, assuming they know your story, disgust me.

You don't.

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So 'tis the end of The Untold Stories. Halloween is closing in and I'm scrambling to edit this stories before then. I'm so lazy :P

Anyway, what do you think was the moral of these stories? What was your favorite? Leave your answers in the gridded response section below.

Oh, and  you see that sexy vote button over there ------>? I'd hit that.

Thank you for reading these stories and sticking through the very end. It's much appreciated.