Averagely Unaverage

Averagely Unaverage

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Apr 10, 2019
Everything has always gone okay in your life (as okay as it gets in the dark side of san francisco). Until one day you're driving with your "friend", you're in the passenger seat, and a truck swerves in front of the car and hits you. The last thing you see is glass and the pure terror on your friends face. When you wake up in the hospital you see your mother drying her tears in the corner of the room, it smells painfully of bleach. When she notices she pushes the nurse out of the way and hands you a piece of paper, it reads: "I love you so much." (this story continues to be about a deaf high schooler who is just trying to survive, just like everyone else.)
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#171
idontknowwhatimdoing
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Romeo sat patiently, holding onto Specs' hand tightly. He watched the doctor's every step, nervousness set on his heart. "Hey, Doc", Specs greeted, trying to offer a smile. He looked better than Hell. "What'd you find?" Romeo wasn't sure Specs could see it, noting he couldn't see anything without his glasses on-he talked about having a headache earlier, and took them off for that reason-but the doctor had a rather solemn look on her face, as if she just learned that someone was going to die. Romeo prayed. "Doc?" "You're results came back", she sighed, keeping it brief. Romeo wanted to yell at her, telling her how he knew the results came back, but he was on the edge of his seat in fear. "I have some news." "What's he got?" Romeo sniffled, trying to keep in his tears and not think of the worse. "Pneumonia?" Specs had had pneumonia before, when he was a kid. He told the story all the time, and Romeo knew it made him feel strong. He'd always say he could beat anything, but Romeo also knew it wasn't that simple. "A few respiratory infections, yes", the doctor agreed, glancing back at her chart. That was fine. Specs could take antibiotics for it and be good as new. "But there's something else. Your white blood cell count was low." Romeo glanced at Specs, worried out of his mind. He knew it. He saw every sign and didn't do shit about it; it's his fault. He should've forced Specs to get checked out. He should've done better. "Cancer?" That seemed to be the worse option. Yet, the doctor shook her head. "Worse, perhaps." What could be fucking worse than cancer? ------------------------ A Spromeo story set in the 1980s Themes of: -Drinking/Drugs -Hospitals -Swearing/Cussing -Mentions of sex and STDs -Homosexuality -Death Please read at your own discretion.

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