Cancer Perks
- Leituras 19
- Votos 2
- Capítulos 1
"Did I pass?" I ask my teacher.
He looks at me with a pitiful face. "86%! Well done!" He hands me my test results.
"Thankyou Mr. Jones." I say, walking out of the classroom.
As soon as I get home, I check, double check and check again if I deserved to get 86%. The results were as I expected.
I got over 40% of the questions wrong.
Definitely a cancer perk.
***
Being 11 with cancer isn't the best thing in the world.
Okay, it totally sucks.
Whenever you meet someone, they say hi, then look at you with a horrible face expression. A face expression that is a mixture of sorrow, pity, happiness (happy that it's not them) and jealousy. Because of the cancer perks, people think that if you live with a minor case of cancer, it'll be great! Fun! People falling at your feet!
They couldn't be more wrong.
Cancer sucks, I hate it, I wish I were someone else.
I wish my hair didn't fall our. I wish people didn't have to be sorry for me. I wish I could be normal.
I wish I wasn't dying...
Todos os Direitos Reservados
#230
perks
Junte-se a maior comunidade de histórias do mundoTenha recomendações personalizadas, guarde as suas histórias favoritas na sua biblioteca e comente e vote para expandir a sua comunidade.
Talvez você também goste
She Never Knew...
"Mom, not today. I don't even know why you're making me go. Today is dads..." I didn't want to finish and remind her of dads' birthday. My phone kept ringing, I already knew it was Dakota, he's my childhood best friend. "Just take your brother to school, please!" She exclaimed. She looked miserable. I shut the door and smelled the freshly cut grass. I smiled to myself knowing it was my dad's favorite smell. "Alexandria! We're gonna be late, can you stop daydreaming and get in the car." My brother, Cory hollered. He hates to think about dad. He just forgets. I Jeep Wrangler and I started the car, Cory rolled down his windows. "Are we sitting together at lunch today?" Cory asked me. "No I want you to sit with your friends, I'll be alright alone." I told him. "Alright Alex, believe it or not I actually love you. And I love you enough to tell you, you need friends." He admitted. "Have fun. Love you too, Corky." I laughed at the name I gave him when I was a kid. He smiled at me then left into the school. I went on to go to a flower shop. I stopped and got out. I walked in the shop. "Ally, do you have my order, the cars running?" I asked Ally. "Yeah Alex, I have it. Your order for 1 dozen Chocolate Cosmos, 2 dozen Daises, and 1 dozen yellow Roses." "Thanks Ally." I grabbed all the flowers then ran back to the car. I drove to the grave. I threw all my stuff into my bag. I grabbed the flowers and I pulled my bag over my shoulder and got out. I looked around and saw people young and old coming here to see their loved ones. I saw my families graves. Almost my whole family will be buried here. My grandpa always said it was sacred. I put the Cosmos on my dad's grave. The Daises on my grandmothers and the Roses on my grandpas. I talked and talked to them till I pull my pack of cigarettes out of my bag along with a lighter. I put the cancer stick in my mouth and lit it. "You guys are probably really mad right now. Blame peer pressure in 9th grade."Concluída
The Mad House Is Where I Belong
I like inflicting pain. Not on others but on myself. Some people would call me depressed but I'm not. If anything the pain makes me happy. I started "self harming" at the mere age of nine. Or at least, that's what she called it. My therapist, I mean. She ended up giving me a life time supply of antidepressants and some shitty advice. I'm now eighteen, rotting in jail, and awaiting my death sentence. This is my story and if I'm quite honest, you don't want to hear it. +++ awards: ➵ Winner, Short Story Category, "Summer Book Awards" @Capybara100 ➵ Overall Winner, "Summer Book Awards" @Capybara100 status: ➵ started - 19/08/17 ➵ finished- 07/11/18 note: ➵ Please don't copy me. I don't appreciate it and will block you and report you. No writer likes to be copied and neither do readers. Readers want something which is unique and original.Concluída
You don't know me
⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ Not for the faint of heart, I explore dark parts of my mind and unfurl them for your own enjoyment. All of these stories are true. You don't know me, and you're never going to. This is basically just a shitty diary of my life with very few details as to who I am, Don't want to scare you off. Feel free to read but I don't really care. I'm just a screwed up guy that everyone knows and nobody cares about really. If you can't tell I'll probably swear quite a bit in this so if you don't like that I'm sorry, but this really isn't a good read anyway it's just me complaining about the fact I still exist. Actually no, whilst I did start this to complain about my life, the stories are fluctuating, as I discover I am infact worthy of love, even I don't believe it at all times. I hope you enjoy my rantings. ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️
Say Hello
This story, unlike the truckloads of other stories on here, is non-fiction. This story is real and it happens to people around the world. Every. Single. Day. You concern yourself with things that just happen on the TV, but have you ever wondered what goes on beyond that? What else is there other than hurricanes, deaths, shootings and children being kidnapped? I could tell you what it is, but I get the feeling it isn't what you want to hear. Oh well, tough luck. Cancer doesn't play by any rules and is deaf to reason. Still want to read my story anyways?Concluída
Catastrophically Carla (Lesbian Story)
Ages 14+ (lesbian concepts and some profanity) This is not your everyday love story, okay? It's not a chick flick either. The events and themes within my pages have meaning, depth, truth-and most of all, reality. You are about to be taken on an adventure about a girl who's life is not like everybody else's. I look like a normal teen girl, I mean, I have hair and two eyes and two hands and feet like everybody else, but I couldn't feel more different. I have two moms, yes. Let's just get that out there before you start reading and close my diary like everyone in my life has shut me out of theirs. All I want is a normal life with normal friends who don't judge me because of my home situation. I don't even remember the last time I went on a sleepover or called somebody my age. I don't mean to be a downer, because it does get better. Life gets better. Struggles are only temporary, I know that now. And by my last words reach your eyes, I've come a long way, and have grown to see potential in myself. I'm sharing this with you because I want to make a difference. I know now that I'm not the only one in the world that feels alone. I've been there, done that, and there's more loneliness to come, but for now, I feel more prepared for it. I know how it feels to sit by yourself at lunch every day and how it feels to watch others go to prom with dates and feel like shit because you don't think you'd even have any friends to go with. Please ready my diary. I am much older now, and much more wiser, and I can't wait for you to realize the potential in yourself, too.Concluída
Breathing For This (Sequel To Trembling Hands)
Millions, no trillions, of questions raced through my wandering mind. Why is this happening to me? Why now? How will the boys react? Will I make it? ... Am I going to get my wish of being with my mother again?... Many people always said "be careful what you wish for", and now I see why. I spent the last ten years of my life wishing I was dead, wishing my life would be over, but three words, "You have cancer", changed everything: I don't want to die: I want to live. The ironic thing is that it took a death sentence to make me see the value of life. And now that I actually want to live, I'm probably going to die, but I guess that's just life, right?Concluída
Second No More, a novel
I've dreamed of the perfect marriage ever since I was a little girl: a marriage complete with a hardworking husband while I tended to the home and our children, preferably four little rugrats to call my own. I dreamed of a life filled with laughter, joy, and success, a life we built together. I dreamed of growing old next to my husband, creating a great love story to tell our grandchildren someday. It all seemed so possible. I was raised to be the perfect wife, after all. From the outside, it seemed I had exactly what I dreamed of with the rich, determined husband; the brilliant, gaudy diamond ring; and the beautiful home filled with the hope of future children. Yes, it was all a dream come true. I should have felt grateful, really. The problem is, I also wanted a marriage based on love, passion, and affection, but those are the only things my husband cannot give me . . . . . . because they're reserved for her. For readers: * I do my best to proofread before publishing, but some typos and errors will slip through. Feel free to point them out! * Comments, active engagement, and helpful critiques are welcomed. * Mean, unnecessary comments that attack me, personally, or other commenters will be ignored and deleted. It takes a lot of courage to publish your work and for others to actively engage in a community. I'd like to keep this a safe and fun place to rage at imperfect heroes and cheer for darling heroines! * I'm not a spicy writer. I rather use my word count for plot, character development, and GROVEL!!! * Most importantly, I hope you enjoy the little world I'm creating. Happy reading, everyone! ADS/Imaginationgirl35Concluída
Letters For You
This is going to be weird. At first at least. I haven't talked to you in over a year, but the teacher said we should use this diary to express our emotions and the only one I could ever be one hundred percent honest with is you. Those letters to you are worth 25% of my final grade so I must find some interesting things to talk to you about. It's going to be good for me too. It'll help me move on. Help me live my life again. I just hope that it will get easier because for now, just imagining talking to you every week brings it all back, all those feelings. I still hope that, one day, you will read those letters for real. That they won't just be a way to keep you in my mind. I'm not stupid, I know that you will never read them but imagining that you will helps me write what I really want to say. So this is for you, I hope you will enjoy. With all my love, EmilyConcluída
"Mom, not today. I don't even know why you're making me go. Today is dads..." I didn't want to finish and remind her of dads' birthday. My phone kept ringing, I already knew it was Dakota, he's my childhood best friend. "Just take your brother to school, please!" She exclaimed. She looked miserable. I shut the door and smelled the freshly cut grass. I smiled to myself knowing it was my dad's favorite smell. "Alexandria! We're gonna be late, can you stop daydreaming and get in the car." My brother, Cory hollered. He hates to think about dad. He just forgets. I Jeep Wrangler and I started the car, Cory rolled down his windows. "Are we sitting together at lunch today?" Cory asked me. "No I want you to sit with your friends, I'll be alright alone." I told him. "Alright Alex, believe it or not I actually love you. And I love you enough to tell you, you need friends." He admitted. "Have fun. Love you too, Corky." I laughed at the name I gave him when I was a kid. He smiled at me then left into the school. I went on to go to a flower shop. I stopped and got out. I walked in the shop. "Ally, do you have my order, the cars running?" I asked Ally. "Yeah Alex, I have it. Your order for 1 dozen Chocolate Cosmos, 2 dozen Daises, and 1 dozen yellow Roses." "Thanks Ally." I grabbed all the flowers then ran back to the car. I drove to the grave. I threw all my stuff into my bag. I grabbed the flowers and I pulled my bag over my shoulder and got out. I looked around and saw people young and old coming here to see their loved ones. I saw my families graves. Almost my whole family will be buried here. My grandpa always said it was sacred. I put the Cosmos on my dad's grave. The Daises on my grandmothers and the Roses on my grandpas. I talked and talked to them till I pull my pack of cigarettes out of my bag along with a lighter. I put the cancer stick in my mouth and lit it. "You guys are probably really mad right now. Blame peer pressure in 9th grade."
Mais detalhesDiretrizes de Conteúdo