Paying For Cancer

Chapter One

Hey, everyone!  I know what you're going to say: "Ryan, you haven't even finished Where There's A Will, There's A Way, yet here you are starting a new story?!" Look, I realize!

I fully intend on updating both this and WTAWTAW on a consistent basis! I'm aiming to have a chapter for each out every Wednesday on an alternating schedule. So one Wednesday, PFC gets updated, then the following WTAWTAW gets updated, and it continues on from there.

This is actually a story I had written in seventh grade! I liked the concept of it, but in seventh grade definitely did not have the qualifications or the skills to pull off such a risque story. So I thought I'd try my hand at it now, five years later!

Alright, enough about me babbling. Let's get to it!

***

I was fifteen when my parents died. I was in the middle of lunch with my two friends Valentina and Willow. We were joking about something our history teacher had said that morning when I was approached by the secretary, Mrs. Till. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence - I was known for blacking out at desultory times, usually in P.E. or math. I thought this was another one of her regular check ups; "Hi, how are you feeling today, Ms. Grove? How is your head?"

This, however, was not the case. She tapped my shoulder and asked if I could follow her. Confused, but not worried, I gathered my bags and my tray and followed Mrs. Till to the office. I had discarded my tray along the way, so all I had to do was settle down in one of the comfortable office chairs and wait for what she had to say.

Seeing my older brother, Marcus, was quite a shock to me. His face was solemn, and held no emotion except for sympathy. I furrowed my eyebrows as a silence fell over the room.

Then Mrs. Till began to speak. She was describing to me an accident that had happened earlier that day involving a car getting gas from a gas pump that mysterious exploded. I looked at my brother for clarification, but he didn't even offer me his gaze.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Grove. Your parents are dead."

I remember collapsing into Marcus' arms, feeling them securely wrap around me before I plummeted to the floor. He held me close to his warm body as he wept into my hair. I hadn't even noticed he had dropped to his knees until I felt his weight cradled overtop of me. I wasn't crying, no, I couldn't cry. It wasn't like this was reality, right? My parents weren't actually dead. They were at home, preparing an early supper since they both had to work at six o'clock. That's where they were. Not dead.

I also remember laughing, telling Mrs. Till that her joke wasn't funny. I laughed for what felt like ages. It was a good laugh, I could feel it in my abdomen. But it didn't take long for it to become a hysterical laugh. I was in denial and laughter was the best way out of it.

The last thing I remember from that day was seeing an unfamiliar face dragging me away from my brother. I didn't care that his shirt held the distinct smell of hospital, which told me he was a paramedic, I just wanted my brother and for him to tell me that this was one sick joke. I was laying in the back of an ambulance, still cry-laughing from discomfort when I finally succumbed to the darkness.

After that, my brother dropped out of college to take care of me. I was only fifteen, I couldn't live by myself. I refused to leave the house that my parents had lived in, which meant that I refused to go live with any of my aunts or uncles. My grandparents offered to come live with me, but they were so close to living in a retirement home that I didn't think it would be a smart option for them to be in charge of me.

It was only me and my brother. I was thankful for Marcus, because he was the best big brother and my rock during the two years following the incident. My health improved, I blacked out less, I was less depressed over my parent's death... I got so well so fast that Marcus even returned to college. Well, the community college here in Greenbrook. But it was a start, and I was happy for him. I had often felt a little guilty for forcing him to dropout of college just to take care of me.