Young Writers Society

Rain Of Night

Abbey

“All around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces, bright and early for the daily races, going nowhere, going nowhere.” My life is less complex than the lyrics written above and even to the left side of this paper. I don’t have a story of amazing accomplishments; I don’t have a bunch of medals or achievement letters stuck to magnets on the refrigerator. All I have is a certain emptiness feeling of sadness. A feeling I wish I could be rid of. I wish I could be like all the other children. I wish I could be beautiful like all the other girls my age. I just wish people would notice me instead of taunting me. They make me feel like I am the center of laughter. The energy that keeps them going because they’re able to feed off my depressing emotion.

Little do they know I’m suffering more than I need to be. I’m suffering every moment of each day. Why can’t I live a life without pain, a life without constantly thinking about whether I’ll be here tomorrow or the next. That’s all I want. A life that I can live without being scared. I’m scared that today will be my last. I’m scared that I won’t wake up in the morning and be greeted by my teddy bear. But what does it matter to the kids at school who bully me just because I don’t have hair. Or just because sometimes I collapse when I run. How can they possibly think that’s funny? Don’t they understand what I’m going through?

Cancer has taken away an enormous amount of opportunities from me. Opportunities that I will never get back. Most kids my age get to plan their birthdays while I plan what I’m going to do the next day. “Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow, no tomorrow, no tomorrow.” Those lines feel true for me, they’re might not be a tomorrow. Tonight will most likely be my last.

My parents use to tell me all the time to be proud of what I have. What is it exactly they want me to be proud of though? I survived longer than the doctors said I would. Or having a bed to sleep on each night without having to worry about losing our house. That couldn’t even happen because I live in a hospital. I have no hair. I am as skinny as a toothpick. My bones are fragile and could break just by me falling of the bed. “The dreams in which I'm dyingare the best I've ever had, I find it hard to tell you.” This song, I feel like it’s literally the story of my life. The story of everything. The story of me.

Sometimes I wish this beating sound coming from within would stop. I wish that sometimes this liquid running through my body would cease to be important. And sometimes, I hope that these lungs would stop breathing. Hard to believe someone could ever wish upon something like that right? Well don’t find it hard to believe because I can tell you right now I’m not the only one.

“Went to school and I was very nervous, no one knew me, no one knew me.” I remember that day, I wore a hat over my baldhead hoping nobody would notice but sooner or later, they did. And sooner than expected the hat that once covered my head found itself laying in the trashcan ripped in pieces, ripped in pieces. No one cared about how I felt, they just wanted a good laugh and amusement out of me. I was the epicenter of all their practical jokes. Not one single one of them cared. Not one. Going to school became a problem for me, it scared me, school is a word that frightens me. It’s comforting to know I don’t have to deal with that anymore.

“It’s a very, very mad world, mad world.” The beeping coming from the machines tells me my heart is slowing. The expressions on the nurses and doctors faces give me warning. Warning that my time is almost up, that my expiration date is about to pass. I feel my mother grasp my hand as the pain slides over me. My body becomes tense and my teeth begin to chatter. Although I live my life in the hospital, I haven’t grown use to needles. I haven’t grown use to anything, not even the fact that I am going to die, I am going to die.

The road less taken

Is the road with the most adversity.

♥♥♥ Abbey ♥♥♥