Ever-changing (on hold)

Chapter 3 PoV Amity

This chapter has some mature language in it, so beware.

***********************************************************************************************

PoV Amity

"Say it."

"No."

"Say it. You'll feel better," Tanya insists.

"No. This is stupid," I sneer.

"Come on, Amity, just say it for me."

"No!"

"Just humor me, alright?"

"Why should I?"

"Because I have to sign your release form before you go back to class."

I sigh. "Fine. My mom's dead."

"What was that?"

"I said my fucking mom's dead. You're not deaf."

She set her red lips into a firm line. "And how does that make you feel."

"Like this is a stupid activity."

Tanya sighs. "Amity, you know that's not-"

"What you meant? Yes, I know," I interrupt. She sighs and scribbles a note in her notebook.

"Let's try something else, shall we?" she ays cheerfully, attempting to get on with the appointment.

I groan. "Can I just go back to band? I've been here for, like, 3 hours."

Her forehead creases, and you can almost see the irritation in her deep brown eyes. "You've been here for ten minutes. We have ten minutes to go still."

I sigh and pick at my finger nail and look around the sad exuse for a councelors office. It's painted yellow in an attempt to look cheerful, but all the stains and peeling paint kind of ruin the flow. Tie-dye bean bag chairs sit on the floor, where we're sitting. Some would call them "retro", but I just call them "ugly" and "old". The red shaddy carpet is dingy and needs a good cleaning, but thats one of the many things the school can't afford... that and textbooks that are from this decade. A small metal desk and filing cabinet sit in the corner, looking dreadfully out of place. Random posters finish the room- plastered in random places at random angles- with things like 'Follow your dreams!' and 'control your anger!' written on them. It's sad, really, that a lady as nice as Tanya has to work in here all day.

Tanya. That's what she tells me to call her, since Mrs. Macheck makes her feel old. She's young as far as teachers go, and even younger for a councelor. She's 21 and has a masters degree, since she skipped a few grades when she was in junior high. It's really a shame that she has to be stuck in a school like this...

"Amity, are you even listening?"

I jump, but collect myself quickly. "Yeah, something about feelings and shit."

"Language, young lady."

"Sorry, forced habit."

She sighs again and grabs my release form. I'm becoming acustomed to the sound. "Well, it dosen't matter any more. Just go back to class," she says, handing my ticket of freedom back to me.

I forced a smile as I opened the door. Before I walk out, I say, "Thanks, Mrs. Macheck."

"I told you not to call-" she started to say as the door closed on her.

I smile widely as I walk down the hall to my study hall.

                                      *            *           *

You know that moment when you prick your finger with a pin? That short moment of panick when you feel pain and your mind already starts jumping to conclusions? It's short lived and almost painless, but in the moment, something that small can be terrifying. Then you breathe for a second, realize what heppened, and continue on with life. It dosen't seem like a big deal once it's done and over with, and you usually forget it within a couple of minutes. 

Life can be like that some times. Things that seem so bad to us one second seem to disapear the next, leaving you to wonder what's really important. That's what it was like last week at the doctors, when they said they just had to run a few tests on my brother, Matt. They had said it was nothing to worry about, that it was probably nothing at all.

Just a precaution. It's always just a precaution.

That's the same thing they said for mom when she was diagnosed. They said it was nothing to worry about, that it was probably nothing. 

It was like life pricked my hope with a needle.

In the days of waiting, the fear faded. I'd eventually forgotten about the tests, about being scared, about anything being wrong in the first place. When the day came when mom was really diagnosed, I didn't feel anything. All I could think about was an english paper that was due the next week. I was only 14. That's all I knew how to do to deal with everything.

It was just a little pin prick in life. The feeling would fade soon, right?

Everything finally kicked in the day of the funeral. Mom had cancer, and she wouldn't come back.

This wasn't just a pin prick, this was a full on stab wound that would never close.

I built up walls. I kept everyone out, except for Matt. He was only 7 when mom died. He would have to grow up without a mom. That's something no kid should have to worry about. I vowed to him and myself that I'd be there for him, no matter what.

And now, sitting in the hospital room awaiting Matt's test results, I'm ready for anything. Pin prick or stab wound, I'll still be here.

A nurse and The doctor walk in. He carries an eerie air with him, and I can already tell it won't be good. The door closes with a small slam. The doctor takes his sweet time sitting down and shuffling his papers. He adjusts his glasses. Has to look good for this, right? 

"I'm just going to be frank with you. Is that alright?" the doctor asked. 

I nod weakly.

He looks at Matt, talking directly to him. "I'm Doctor Russell, but you can call me Jack, okay?" Matt nods. "Matt, do you know what cancer is?" 

The 9 year old nods, already looking scared.

"Well, Matt, you've got some cancer living inside of you." Matt's eyes widen, and he looks ready to freak out. I feel ready to freak out, too, but I need to hide it for Matt. Before he can, Jack says, "Don't be scared. We have a lot of good ways to get all the bad stuff out of you, okay? We're going to take good care of you."

Matt nods, but still looks scared. He looks up at me and says, "Amy, I'm scared."

"It's okay, Matt. You'll be all better soon," I say with a small, sad smile. I don't really know what to say to reassure him. I'm relieved when Jack talks instead.

"I'll tell you what, Matt," he begins, "how about my good friend Nurse Karen takes you to the cafeteria to get some ice cream. Would that be alright?"

Matt nods vigorously as the nurse, Karen, speaks up for the first time. "Come on, buddy," she says, "I'll show you where it is."

When Matt is out of the room, Jack starts talking about treatment options for leukemia in children, but I'm only half listening to what he's saying. 

I know I should be more afraid, but I can't be. It's just another one of lifes pin pricks, except this time, I'll make sure to take it seriously when it starts oozing blood.