23 Days Until Heaven

Day 23

I wake up to the soft droning of the heart monitor. Beep, beep, beep. I slowly blink my eyes until they are half open. I can make out a blurry figure dressed in all white, talking to a petite woman-my mother.

I can't really make out what they are saying, but I know what it is. It's always, "Ma'am, she's not getting better like we thought. Would you like to add ____ medication and up the dosage of ____?" 

My mom always responds with, "Whatever it takes, doctor."

The simple truth is-I'm dying. I know, why would a sixteen year old girl be dying? Because I have leukima. I don't even know what I want anymore. Medication to try to stop it from getting worse? Or should I just stop and end it all?

No, I can't even consider that, even if it is best for me. My mother would never let me do that, and my little brother Blake would be devestated. 

I hear the doctor whispering to my mother again before he says, "Oh, look. Charlotte's awake." 

Mom runs over to my bed and grabs my hand violently. She pulls in close and whimpers, "I love you, baby. You haven't woken up in 31 hours." 

But this is normal. I sleep for extended periods of time, it's my body's way of telling me that it needs help.

Dr. Clark looks down at me and says four words that causes all the blood to run out of my face. "You have 23 days."

With tears welling in her eyes, Mom calls my brother's name. He's only six, does he really need to be here to see me dying? But I just think of all the times when I held him when he was so little, telling him I would always be there if he needed anything. Now, he's been at my side for 7 months. I can't let go, for Blake's sake. 

Just as I look at his beautiful round face and hazel eyes, my dad hobbles in. I don't even know why Mom brings him to the hospital anymore. The stress of me being sick has forced him into chronic alcoholism. He slurs his words as he speaks to me. "Ha! Look at you! You look like crap. And you're not even dead yet."

Those last five words hit me like a ton of bricks. "You're not even dead yet." 

I see my mothers face. I look at her swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks, but she isn't sad in this moment. He face is filled with rage. She lifts her hand up to slap my dad before the Dr. Clark gets in the way to stop him. My mother just stares at my dad, not even acknowledging my existence in this moment. 

We are running out of money to pay for my treatment, and I just don't know if my dad can handle it anymore.

I look to Blake. He jumps out of the dirty red chair in the corner and runs up to my side, then gently places his hands against my face.

He kisses my cheek, which sends my body into overdrive. It is fighting back the disease. I can't just die and leave Blake in the ruins of this family.