Life was everything between bad and content. If you could still deal with daily drama, if you could still breathe through everything, then you were in the position of moving on.
Life was too short to stop, it forced you to move on…
I pretended like I was listening to whatever the doctors said, but in reality I was bored as hell. The scene was always the same –a crying mother, a father in misery, and a bored me. But after all those years of hearing every possibility and every scenario regarding your health, it wasn’t interesting enough.
I looked at the clock on the wall, making a small calculation. If I quickly grabbed breakfast at the beach I could still be on time for my lessons.
A hand on my shoulder brought me back to the present. My bald doctor patted my shoulder awkwardly, trying to reassure me. For what, I didn’t know.
“If your pain gets worse, you can come here and we’ll give you something to stop it. But other than that, live your life, April,” he said and I couldn’t stop my sarcastic laugh.
“Sure, doc. I throw a party everyday.”
I felt bad for a moment when I saw the guilty look on his face, but I was serious about throwing a party –me, my computer and my book; we were a good trio.
When I got out of the doctor’s office, my mom looked better, but her voice was raspy as she said, “April? What do you want to do now, baby?”
It was a perk of having cancer –your parents always asked what you wanted to do. Not only your parents, everyone was doing that like you were royalty.
“Can we stop by at the shoreline? I’m not hungry, but the ocean air might help,” I said.
My voice was normal. I wasn’t crying…I gave up on crying long ago. It didn’t change a thing, instead, it only added a headache and swollen eyes to the pain all over the world.
And I had enough pain to last me a lifetime…literally.
I chose a café which had the best ocean view and ordered toast with a glass of orange juice. I knew for sure even that would be too much for me, but it was a good distraction from my parents as they tried to make small talk with me. With my one-word-answers I hoped they would understand that I wasn’t in the mood for any social interaction.
As I watched the ocean under the grey sky, I thought of the things I missed in life.
I had never skated when I was a kid because of the fear of a broken leg and now, a tumor was eating my bone. I would have preferred it to be broken while I was having fun.
I’d never had a boyfriend. I was too busy with building my future like a true workaholic. Also, I was too stubborn to look for love because of my lack of belief in it. As you can guess, I’d never fallen in love since I didn’t care of it.
Maybe it wasn’t my lack of belief in love…maybe there was no space for love between the doctor appointments and PET scans. Hospitals weren’t the places you could find love like they tried to make you believe in books. Those places were full of pain, sorrow, and misery.
“April, baby?”
My mom’s voice rescued me from the memories of hospital hallways.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I asked if you want to go to the school, baby,” she asked, adding “baby” in her every sentence like that would make me live longer.
“Sure. A college education is important,” I answered. As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to take them back as they were filled with heavy sarcasm, but it was too late for that.
Thankfully, my parents only nodded, but it made me feel guiltier.
It wasn’t their fault that I had to deal with this shit, but no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t help but be bitter.
It must have been harder for them, though. To live with the loss, remembering it every passing day…this didn’t sound like a happily ever after.
Maybe I was the lucky one…for being the one who left.
The ride to my college was silent but music came through the radio. I was humming to myself along with the songs, but it wasn’t because I was cheerful, it was mostly like reflex. And it wasn’t a coincidence that the songs I chose to sing were depressing.
Getting out of the car outside the campus walls, I started to walk toward my building. My hand grabbed my bag tightly as the other hand became a fist. I bit my tongue, this small pain distracted me enough to continue walking even though the ache in my leg was getting worse with each step.
I headed toward the cafeteria, cursing all the steps and stairs in this building. Thankfully, my best friend Tris saw me and came up next to me, linking our arms, pretending like we were chit-chating instead of rubbing in my face how miserable I was.