Hades

Chapter eight: Realization

"Brain tumour," the doctor told us, pointing to the MRI scan of my mother's brain. "A rather large one."

The doctor was a middle aged man with weary eyes and was just starting to lose his hair.

My father gulped. "Can we take it out?"

The doctor didn't say anything for a while, just looked at us pitifully. Finally, "No, we can't. It would probably kill her."

"What about chemotherapy?" I asked.

"The tumour is far too big," the doctor replied. "And it might just make it more aggressive."

I swallowed hard. Dad was sitting in a chair, his fingers tightly clenched together. Hades stood in a corner quietly, probably because the doctor couldn't see him.

"How long has she got?" I finally managed to croak out.

"Three weeks," the doctor said as he stood up. "I'm sorry."

***

We walked to the room where my mother was. She was hooked up to a few wires, and appeared to be asleep. Jon and Ron sat in the chairs across from her. It was the stillest I had ever seen them. I lifted them both up, sat on the chair then put them both on my lap.

"Is mother going to die?" Jon asked, his voice mechanical.

I didn't know how to reply.

"I don't want to stay here anymore," Ron said.

I realised I didn't want to either. I held both of the boy's hands, one in each, and walked them outside. Hades followed me. It was about ten in the morning, and I felt tired from the lack of sleep. Today was a school day, but considering the situation, I think school could wait.

The crisp winter morning air was quite refreshing. It seemed to restart both Jon and Ron's mind, and they began to run around like mad men again. Hades stood next to me as we watched the two boys roll around on the grass at the front of the hospital.

"How long does my mother actually have?" I asked.

"It's...not for me to say," Hades replied.

I gave him a long, hard look.

Finally he sighed. "Fourteen days, twelve hours and twenty-three minutes."

I inhaled deeply. I felt something warm and wet on my cheek and I realised I was crying. I hadn't cried since I was twelve, when I broke my foot trying to climb down from a tree. I wiped away the tears but more kept running down my face. Soon, my whole face was wet and so were the sleeves of my coat.

"It's okay, Clarice, everything will be alright," Hades said his voice soothing. He was lying and both of us knew that, yet I found comfort in his words. I guess everyone needs comfort from time to time.

He looked rather awkward, he seemed to want to give me a hug as to provide more comfort but because of his powers he wasn't able to. The frown on his face made me laugh a little. There was still snot and tears all over my face, but I managed to laugh. He blushed and looked away.

"We should go back inside," I finally said.

"Yeah, you should."

"Aren't you coming?" I asked him.

"No, I wish I could stay, but I am practically a slave to the underworld. There's things down there that need to be...judged."

***
It wasn't until the third day in the hospital when suddenly my mother woke up. Father had gone to the vending machine to get some food and had taken Ron and Jon with him. It was just me in the room.

"Clarice?" My mother croaked.

I got up and walked to her bed.

"Why am I here?" She wondered trying to sit up. "What happened?"

She sat back down as she realised that she was about to pull out all the wires from her body.

"Just relax," I told her.

At that moment dad came through the door. He dropped the packet of chips he was holding in shock. Jon and Ron stared at my mother wide eyed.

"Jennifer!" He exclaimed as he ran up to my mother and hugged her.

"Mum!" The twins yelled in unison.

"Peter?" She wondered. "What on earth is happening?"

My father finally regained his sense of calm and pulled away. "We have something to tell you."

"What?" My mother asked. "What's wrong with me?"

We told her everything. From the night she collapsed until now. She cried after that. Who wouldn't? Then she pulled us all into a big family hug.

***
I went back to school the next day. I wanted more than anything to stay with my mother, but I had exams to pass. I had my science test first thing in the morning. I was the first to finish. Then I had my English test. I had to write a exposition on whether or not Shakespeare was the best poet of all time. After lunch was my history test. Then my maths test. The last test was on geography.

As I began frantically trying to keep my thoughts focused on the test, a sudden realisation hit me in the gut with the feeling of guilt. The fates. Death. A life ending. They weren't trying to tell me that I was going to die. They were trying to tell me that somebody was going to die. My mother, was going to die.