We were reckless.
How did we get from kissing to you pinning me to the wall to us both on the floor in a tangle of limbs?
We made an explosion that day, Park Jimin.
And now, we are suffering the consequences of it.
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Now the whites of my eyes were turning a sickly yellow around the edges. My skin looked disgusting, sickly yellow. If I pressed my fingers on my stomach, I could feel the small bump of the tumor. It made me want to throw up.
My mom saw me staring at the mirror. Staring at myself and how much my body had deteriorated.
She had a piece of chocolate cake, my favorite.
But instead, my stomach curled at the smell and I turn my nose away.
"Should we take you to the doctor again, sweetie?" My mom asked.
I shook my head. "They'll just tell me what I already know. It's getting worse."
My mom gently put up my hair in a ponytail. A few strands escaped the tie as she lovingly brushed up my hair and finished the ponytail.
"Why do you love that blue hoodie so much?" She asked abruptly, staring in puzzlement at the blue hoodie on my bed.
I had washed it again that day and was waiting for it to dry.
"Where did you get it?"
"When I went to the park one day," I replied. "It was on Day 62. August 2, 2017."
"You're counting the days?" My mom asked, still stroking my hair.
"Yes."
"What day is today?" She asked quietly.
"Day 35," I swallowed. "But according to my doctor, it's Day 27."
My mom pressed her mouth on top of my head. "You shouldn't count so much, honey. It can't be healthy."
It can't be healthy.
Funny she'd say something like that.
"Are you scared, Mom?" I looked at my mom.
My mom gave me a weak smile. "Yes, sweetie, I am."
Something twisted in my chest at her bittersweet smile.
"Should I be scared, Mom?" My voice had softened to barely.
Barely audible.
"No, honey," my mom straightened her shoulders. "You're my brave little Amazon princess. You won't let anything bring you down, right? Not even me."
"I love you, Mom."
My mom finally broke down and cried in front of me.
