Unconditional

Chapter 2 The L Word

"Jessica! Jessica!" My mothers frantic voice startles me.

I peer around the corner to see her miss-America-running from the elevator. Our apartment is huge. Well, it's not really an apartment per se. It's a penthouse. Two story with five bedrooms and three full bathrooms.

"It's here!" My mother chirps, waving a newspaper at me.

I raise my eye brows at her confused.

"The wedding announcement!"

"Oooh. Okay."

My parents are going to make this bigger than just a wedding.

She opens up the paper and begins reading aloud.

"Nineteen year old Justin Owens, son of Mark Owens of Owens Realistate is a senior and star athlete at Millennium High School, proposed to his girlfriend of three years, eighteen year old Jessica Fintres, daughter of Anthony and Abigail Fintres at Fintres Law. Jessica is also a senior at Millennium and is very well known for her high spirited personality. Though the couple was not up to discussing Jessica's.." My mother trails off and quickly turns the page.

"Mom?" I ask.

"You need to eat."

"Mom what's wrong? What did it say?"

"Nothing sweetheart."

I grab the paper from her hand and flip to the page and began reading where she left off.

"Though the couple was not up to discussing Jessica's, illness the teen has been diagnosed with leukemia." I swallow down the lump in my throat.

"I should have that reporter fired!" My mom threatens.

"Mom, we can't keep dancing around it. It's not a bad word. It's the truth. I state."

"You're going to get better so theres no need to." She brushes off.

"Mom I have leukemia. You can't pretend like it doesn't exist. Believe me I've tried."

She just looks away, blinks and clears her throat, as if to blink away what I just said from her mind and move to a new topic. Both my parent's think that cancer happens to people who smoke and the elderly. Not eighteen-year-olds who have never touched a cigarette or had anything medically wrong in their life. So pretty much they think it will just disappear if we don't talk about it

"Mom!" I exclaim.

She doesn't say anything, just starts washing some vegetables in the sink. I roll my eyes and my face begins to feel heated. Not because I was going to be sick or because I had a fever. But because I was angry. I stomp towards the elevator.

"Where are you going?" My mom asks.

"Emilee's." I state as I angrily push the button for the doors to close.

I was fuming as I practically stomped out of the elevator, through the lobby and out into the mid summer air. The slight breeze cools my face and blows a few strands of my hair in my eyes. I dont get angry easy, especially after we found out about the... cancer. But my parents really get under my skin- I mean I've accepted that I have... IT. It's not fair that they get to pretend like everything's normal. As I make my way through the crowded streets of my city to Emilee's house, my first thought is that thankfully my new medicine works and Im not tired or as weak as I have been, but my second is not a thought. It's a memory. The memory of when I was diagnosed replays in my head-still as vivid as if it had just happened. I was sixteen; Justin and I had been dating only a year when I suddenly became sick with what I thought was a stomach virus. I was vomiting for weeks, my skin was at least three shades lighter than normal, I became very weak. It was about four weeks of this when I started having freak nose bleeds and problems with my vision. None of this was normal for me. I had only once been sick with the flu when I was twelve. Mother became concerned and scheduled me an appointment with a doctor, but later that night I woke up in the middle of the night with a searing headache. I was on my way to my parent's room when I blacked out. When I woke up I wasnt in my room. I remember how it felt. Like someone had completely sucked all the energy I had in my body out, I remember being scared at first-until I realized I was in a hospital. When my parents came in the look on their faces made me panic. My mothers dark green eyes were red and puffy, like she had been crying, and my fathers light brown eyes were blank and his forehead wrinkled in deep thought. Following behind my parents was an older guy, about mid-forties; he was unusually tall with no hair and kind blue eyes. He explained to me the words I never in my life thought I would hear. That I was diagnosed with stage three leukemia.