My Last 10 Notes
  • Reads 11,087
  • Votes 411
  • Parts 37
  • Time 2h 18m
  • Reads 11,087
  • Votes 411
  • Parts 37
  • Time 2h 18m
Ongoing, First published Apr 08, 2013
"You have Leukemia. It's a type of cancer. With the right treatments, we might be able to rid your body of it. The success rate in children your age is around 76 percent. We did catch it pretty late though." The doctor said. 

    I swallowed. I felt a tear slip down my face. Then rage filled me. I jumped up and hit the doctor in chest, not enough to hurt, just enough to get the feelings out. The tears were flowing freely now. I kicked the examination table and the other chairs in the room, I threw papers from the desk onto the floor, and finally I threw the door open and ran through the hallways, knowing my mother and the doctor were chasing after me. I turned a corner and ran into the lobby. A few people stared at me, and I ran outside, not caring where I was headed. 

    I just had to escape this. But the harsh reality was that I couldn't escape it. 

    I was dying.
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My heart begins to race. My lungs tighten as the walls seem to close in on me. Their staring eyes stab through my muscles as I turn stiff. Then I realize it. My mind and eyes looking for an escape. I want to run away. I want to leave. I suddenly feel trapped. For the first time, his blue eyes do not create that comfort mg heart yearned for all these years. They're the same icy coldness I saw in my father when he left. "I'm sorry. I...I can't." Run. Run just like he did to you. Break him just like he did to you. I should've known it's what I know best.