Tanya,
i always knew something was wrong with my sister, but i never once asked what it was, i was too afraid. my mother told me not to ask certain people why they looked different from me and my mom. she told me to always respect a person, no matter how different they were, and i always did. the first time i actually acknowledged that my sister was sick, was when i found her kneeling on the bathroom floor, puking blood into the toilet. i was scared to death. scared for her. after calling my mom upstairs, she told me what was really wrong with my sister, she had leukaemia, at the time, my sister was fifteen, and i was only seven, but i still understood. my dad worked at the hospital, so we didn't have to pay much to get help for her, but we still had to pay, what can i say? hospitalizations are expensive. when my sister would come home from the hospital, she always went strait to sleep because the hospital beds were hard as rocks on her bruised back.
brrrrring.
then the doctor said:
"hello... ive got some bad news..."
uh oh i thought.
"YOUR DAUGHTERS DEAD! have a nice day."
YOU ARE READING
hope is a myth
Short Storythis is definitely a tear-worthy story. if you are sensitive and hate death... DO NOT READ THIS BOOK! if you love death and hate main character living a good and happy life... YOU MUST READ THIS BOOK! i'm so sorry! i felt the need to write this, but...
