Forlot: Jorgie Special - Book Five {Completed}

Chapter Two

The worst part about being diagnosed with Tenomeya is when it actually starts, and that alone can make you feel overwhelmed. Everyone is different, so it is not a surprise that it affects people differently. Some begin having symptoms of Tenomeya, such as having extreme stomach pains and both type 1 and type 2 diabetes, and others are perfectly healthy until they reach a certain age.

That was me. I was diagnosed with Tenomeya when I born, but I was just fine until I was five years old.

I had turned five years old three weeks before the incident. On the day that Tenomeya was creeping up on me, my older sister and I were in the den and sitting on the couch. We were eating cereal and watching one of our favorite shows. The show is called The Awesome Earth of BallGum.

My sister, whose name is Jorga, is caring. She was the only person in my life who always stood by me, especially because of my diagnosis. She helped me with my homework and took care of me as if she were one of my parents.

Speaking of parents, our mom and dad were not at home that day. They had already left for work two hours before Jorga and I woke up. I had been worried about them ever since that they learned about my condition and how it could affect both me and my body.

"Jorga?" I spoke up. I had a timid voice back then.

"Yes?" Jorga scooped some pieces of her cereal with her spoon and slipped them into her mouth. She shut her mouth and chewed.

"Will Mommy and Daddy get a divorce?"

I noticed her eyes widening, and she swallowed. "Jorgie..." She giggled nervously. "...wherever did you get a thought like that? Mom and Dad will not be getting a divorce anytime soon."

I shrugged and was leaning the back of my head against her side. "It just that...they have been fighting for a really long time, and as I have seen on certain shows, fighting and disagreements lead to divorces."

She sighed and gently patted my arm. "Oh, sis. You have to remember that they are fake. Do you know what the word 'fake' means?"

I shook my head. "No. My teacher has not gone over that word."

"It means 'to not be real.' The information that you receive from those specific shows use information that is not true."

I glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow. "Like those two kids who have cancer?"

"Yes."

"So...cancer is not real?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"But you said that—"

"I meant that the kids from that show might not actually have cancer." I saw her hands shaking a little. "Let us change the subject."

I knew that she was going to say just that. She always desires to change the subject if we are discussing about a condition that exists in the real world. That is because of me. I will have cancer. Every single type of cancer.

Poor me.

That is why Jorga feels uncomfortable with talking about any disease that I will get because of Tenomeya. She does not want to worry and certainly does not want me to be worried either. The same can be said with our parents.

To be honest, I do not have a close relationship with our parents. As a matter of fact, we do not have a relationship at all. They gave up on me when they found out about my diagnosis and treat me like a slave.

I am not exaggerating on that. I am an actual slave in the household.

I wash the dishes. Clean the house. Wash the laundry. And much more. And get this. I do the taxes.

I would not be so mad at my mom and dad if I were doing all of these chores because of the work that they do, but I am going to be honest with you readers. Remember earlier when I said that they left for work?

Their "work" is spending their time with their friends and partying until midnight.

Yep. I am serious.

I swear that they are not responsible parents. What am I saying? I know that they are not good parents!

Jorga does not like them either. She keeps stating that she would rather have me and her be in an orphanage than stay with our nasty Mom and Dad. She especially hates - yes, hates - them because they encourage her more than they do me.

Talk about sisterly love.

"Jorga?" I said her name once again. I had finished all of my cereal and dropped my spoon into the bowl. Clank! went the spoon as it hit the bottom of the bowl.

My sister was straightening her yellow dress and white boots and also done eating. She looked at me and blew away a strand of her curly, brown hair that was light and in a ponytail. Mine is dark brown and also curly and in a ponytail. "What is it now?"

"Is it my fault that this family is falling apart?"

The look that suddenly appeared on her face made me guess that she was sorry for me. "None of it is your fault. Our parents are just unfortunately stupid."

I let out a gasp and pointed a finger at her. "You said the 'S' word!"

"Pardon my French, but it is true."

She got off the couch and picked up the remote. "Time for us to go to school." She turned off the television and forced me to my feet. "You need to get ready."

"But I am already dressed and got my backpack packed!" I was wearing a blue, short-sleeved shirt and beige pants with tennis shoes.

"Yes, but what about that stain on your shirt?"

I looked at my shirt - and clutched where my heart is. It was beating rapidly. But why?

One of my worst fears had come to life.

A heart attack.