Young Writers Society

Death is inevitable. Whether we like it or not we’re all going to die someday. Some of us will die at 86 and some of us when we’re 15. I’m sorry if I’m scaring you, but it’s the truth, so learn to deal with it. I know it sucks but so do most things in this world. More than anyone I personally know what dying feels like. That feeling where you can see your world being torn down and crumbling in front of your eyes and you can’t stop it. Life will continue whether you’re in it or not. That’s the scary part. Unfortunately for me, I’ve had an encounter with death younger than I would’ve liked. At 12 years old I had an excruciating pain in my chest every time I would take a breath. It was at school when I first felt it and I fell to the floor grasping my throat in my tight clench. I was taken out on a stretcher and rushed to the emergency room where they did an MRI of my chest, throat, and head. The tumor lit immediately and I was diagnosed with stage 3 metastatic thyroid cancer. That’s just a fancy way of saying, “Your lungs don’t really work.”

Ever since that day I, Spencer Rose, have been in and out of the operating room so much I practically have a reserved room there. But that’s not even the worst part. The hospitals and prescription drugs 5 times a day I can deal with. It’s the stares and judgmental looks at school that make me want to curl up into a ball and just go back to being 11 and healthy. I lost my hair to chemo just 3 months ago when I turned 15. Tenth grade started the next week so I was basically walking around with a target on my head saying, “YES I’M THE CANCER PATIENT.” I was always told to have a more positive outlook on life and that I was a negative person. I wasn’t negative I was just honest. People are afraid of honesty because it’s the truth and sometimes the truth hurts.

My truth is that it was the first day of school and I walked in through the cold, steel doors of Bridgewater High School with no friends. People didn’t even bother to talk to me, they’d just stare with laser vision straight through me. Occasionally my eyes caught theirs and they’d turn away as if I was contagious through eye sight. All I wanted was to walk into a class without someone’s face going white when they would have to sit next to me. That’s all I want. Despite my wishes, I slouched in my desk in the back of Ms. Brennan’s english class fiddling with the strings that hung from my maroon sweater. I crunched my toes in my oversized tan uggs every time somebody walked by, hoping they’d sit next to me.

Beeeep! The bell to begin another year of torture came ringing through the loudspeaker and again, I was alone. “Good morning class! My name is Ms-” The door swung open and a girl who I had never seen before stumbled in, backpack flying open and a pencil tucked neatly in her bun that sat at the top of her head. As she was relentlessly apologizing for being late she sauntered to the back of the class, occasionally bumping into the desks around her and sat down right next to me. “As I was saying” continued Ms. Brennan, “This year will be a challenge for some of you. But as long as you try your best you will be fine.” Normally I’d be aggravated by her optimism but in a weird way I kind of believed her.

Before I could begin to process what Ms. Brennan was saying I felt a gentle tap on my left shoulder and a question was blurted out, “Hey, uhh can I borrow a pencil?” I replied with, “Yeah, but you’re going to need to tell me your name first so that I can hunt you down when you try and steal it.” She sat a little confused for a while but then said, “Oh yeah, my name’s Caitlyn, Caitlyn Holscamp. So do I qualify for the pencil?” I rolled my eyes and reached into my pencil case to try and find the dullest, smallest, pencil I had. I pressed it firmly into her hand and turned away jerking my head quickly back round to the front of the room. A hair flip would have been a dramatic ending but like I said, cancer sucks.

As the day dragged on I could already think of all the new rumours that Caitlyn would start about me. “Spencer has anger issues” or “The medicine she’s on makes her flip out on people.” But they never came. It was 2:54, one minute from the bell and all I heard were lockers being slammed shut out in the hallway. At the sound of the bell I picked up my mint colored jansport backpack from the floor next to my desk and left the school through the first door I could find.

“Hey, Spenc! Wait up!” came a voice from about 20 feet behind me. I knew immediately who it was so I continued walking and shouted back in return, “If you want some good rumours to start about me, just look online. I’m sure there’s some that haven’t been done yet.”

“What?” she replied, “I was going to ask you if you wanted to come over, but if you have plans to pout in your room that’s ok too I guess.”

“You wouldn’t want me at your house. I’m dying.” I replied with a bit of attitude.

“Well if your dying you wouldn’t want to die alone in your room would you?” she added with a sly smile growing across her face.

Nobody had ever said that to me before. I was always so consumed by the fact that I was dying that I never took the time to realize how to live each day. I thought for a measly 10 seconds and then responded with a subtle, “I’ll only go if you give me back the pencil.”

Caitlyn reached down into the pocket of her ripped blue jeans and pulled out the same pathetic, grimy, stubby pencil I handed to her in Ms. Brennan’s english class earlier that morning. She placed it into my hand gently and then took off running across the street screaming, “Race you there!” She didn’t seem to think for a second that maybe my lungs were too weak to run or that maybe I needed help. To be perfectly honest, I kind of liked it. I liked being treated like a normal person and being expected to do certain things.

I took off running, not knowing where I was going but catching glimpses of her curly auburn hair weaving in and out of cars. Cars honked at us, parents yelled, “Get out of the road.” I didn’t care the slightest bit, which is the crazy part. For the first time in a long time I felt like I was living instead of existing. And trust me, nothing has ever felt better.

After four or so blocks Caitlyn slowed down to a jog and turned swiftly into the driveway of an old looking victorian home. It looked straight out of a movie, I swear. Moss lined the side from the grass to the roof, the white porch wrapped all around the 4-story, grey house, and in the front stood an old oak with branches growing out from it every which way.

“Welcome” shouted Caitlyn between gasps of air. “To my humble abode.”I cracked a smile and slowly reached over to lean on the oak tree with an elaborate tree house perched on the highest branch.

“Ahhh yes” she began to explain. “This was a selling point for my mother. She’s always dreamed of having a tree sprawling over the front yard. I don’t really see the need but if it keeps her happy and out of my business then I’m all for it.”

“I actually love it.” I said kind of hoping it would help Caitlyn realize how different we were. She looked around for a while and then said, “I guess there are worse things in the world.”She walked up the porch step, twisted the handle on the door and asked back, “Are you coming?”

I slumped up the stairs to the door and immediately rushed inside to sit down on the couch and catch my breath. Between gasps for air I managed to look around and realize how new and fresh her home was. From the polished hardwood floors to the banister that ended in a perfect curl all the way up to the fresh coat of paint on the walls, everything seemed just so.

Caitlyn slung her backpack onto the couch and sat beside me cautiously so that she wouldn’t disturb my breathing. Even though she never asked I knew she was wondering if I was ok. “I’m fine.” I mumbled between breaths.

“Well if you’re really ok do you want to do something?” she questioned. I probably wasn’t fine but I figured I could pretend I was. At least for the day.

“What should we do?” I asked with a touch of fear covering my voice. “I think I have an idea.” she quickly responded, almost like she had already planned the whole day out.

Caitlyn called upstairs, “MOM!” Her voice echoed through the still empty house and created a sense of loneliness.

“Yes darling?” her mom answered back. “What do you need?”

“A ride downtown.” Caitlyn yelled back. “My friend Spencer and I want to go downtown for a while.”

Within a matter of seconds a slightly taller spitting image of Caitlyn walked down the stairs. Same curly auburn hair, same face covered in freckles, and the same half smile half grin across her face permanently.

“Well hello there, I’m Jenny...Caitlyn’s mom.” she said immediately. “Yes mom we get it. Ok can you just grab the keys please.” asked Caitlyn impatiently.

Within a matter of minutes we were in the car, listening to the hits of the 80’s play through the car radio. Every time a new song came on Mrs. Holscamp would yell, “Oh my word I used to love this song!”

Caitlyn would look at me with a slight grin as to say, “I’m really sorry about her.” I didn’t mind though. My mom was always upset or stressing over my treatments so it was nice to see that all families aren’t like that.

After thanking Mrs. Holscamp for the ride, we stepped out into the main road running through Bridgewater, NJ lined with cafés and endless shops.

“I’m starved. Wanna eat?” asked Caitlyn. I’m always in the mood for food so this was an easy answer for me.

We walked about a block away until we reached the famous Mama’s Kitchen Cafe. We opened the rickety brown door and the sound of the bell behind us blended in with the pots and pans clinking together in the kitchen. I took a long deep breath and inhaled the sweet smell of fries, burgers, and rich buttery pancakes.

We walked over to an empty booth and slid into the tufted couch-like seats. “What are you gonna get?” asked Caitlyn.

“Uhhhh I usually just get a salad.” I replied with little enthusiasm. “Well you aren’t today.” fought back Caitlyn. “Like I said before life is precious and if this were to be your last meal, a salad is not the way to go out with a bang.”

I looked down at the menu again and ordered a cheeseburger with fries and an ice cold coke. I didn’t realize it at the time but that cheeseburger and fries was everything I had missed in life. I mean, not literally but it signified all the opportunities I’ve passed up because I thought I’d be too weak. All the parties, friends, laughs had all been sacrificed to cancer. But they didn’t have to be. At least not anymore.

For the rest of the night we ran up and down the streets singing, laughing, talking to boys, trying on clothes at stores, and just being normal teenage girls. I forgot what it felt like to have a moment of uncontrollable laughter, and just smile for no reason.

As my mom rolled up to Mama’s Kitchen to pick me up, you could see a sign of relief on her face. A look that screamed, “Thank goodness my baby is finally happy.” This feeling of relief lasted only 12 hours for her and me, as the next morning I was in the hospital going for another round of chemo. The medicine is pumping into you but at the same time it feels like it’s taking all the life out of your body. As I started to shut my eyes the door to my hospital room flung open with a loud bang as it slammed against the back wall.

“Morning” a familiar voice echoed as she walked in the door. “I brought some of the homework from today. But I don’t have any notes since you took back the pencil I needed to write them down with.” she said with laughter in her voice.

I’d never had a friend visit me in the hospital before. Heck, I never had a friend before period.

“Do you seriously just sit here all day?” she questioned. “Yeah” I replied. “It’s not all bad. Sometimes my nurse, Cathy, comes in and we watch a movie together or play a board game. I guess it’s just what I’m used to.” I explained. “Well, tell Cathy she can take the night off. Tonight we’re going to do something more exhilarating than play monopoly until the bank is broke.”

I couldn’t help but feel anxious about what she had in store for me that night. All I know is that it would beat sitting in the stale, depressing hospital bed for another 24 hours.

At 8 O’clock Cathy came in to remove my iv and other needles in my body so that I could sleep. As she left I rose from my bed and crept down the hall to the back entrance where Caitlyn came to meet me.

“Just follow me.” she said with confidence lingering her voice. We began to walk for blocks upon blocks until I thought my toes would fall off or my lungs would collapse. And with my condition that’s a very real possibility. As we got closer I began to recognize the area, all the trees and quaint houses lining the deserted roads. We took one last turn and we were in Caitlyn’s backyard.

“It’s a shortcut I know from trying to run away from my parents. I learned it as soon as I moved here so that I could have an escape route for the school year.” she explained as she unlatched the gate to go from the backyard to the front yard.

I peered up into the sky and was drawn in by the millions of stars in the sky. I dreamed of being as bright and bold as them one day. For now, I was confined to sneaking out of hospitals.

Caitlyn began to climb the old oak up to the platform the turned into the porch of the treehouse. Hesitantly I followed her up and admired the view from a little higher up.

“Got it?” Caitlyn asked as I began to climb. I wanted to say “No I’m actually really struggling” but I just stuck with a simple, “I’m fine.”

We sat up there in peace admiring the beauty of the sky the swallowed us whole. I felt weightless. Almost like I was floating up to be in the stars.

We sat in silence for a long time until Caitlyn said, “What’s your favorite movie.” I laughed at this because in the midst of all this chaos, she brought up the simplest topic ever. Somehow everything around her felt unimportant and easy to figure out. Sometimes I just need to be reminded that deep down inside I’m still a normal teenager.

I sat there for a little longer and then we began the walk back to my hospital room. After a couple blocks of silence Caitlyn finally said, “You know what? I really hope I can hang out again.” This left me stunned for a minute. Nobody has ever voluntarily spent time with me or genuinely enjoyed their time with me.

“As long as you really want to.” I replied with a hopeful, shy smile on my face. And she did. For the next three years she sat in my hospital room with me anytime she could. In school she waved to me in the hallway without embarrassment, sat with me at lunch, and made me laugh through everything. Through all the chemo treatments, surgeries, upcoming tests, and the stress of college applications, she forced me to smile through it all.

“Hey Spenc, what’s up?” Caitlyn asked through the phone. “Nothing much, just studying for our latin test. What’s up with you?” I replied as I sat with a pencil between my teeth and study guides covering my living room floor. “Well, I’m going to a party tonight to celebrate the end of midterms and I wanted to see if you’d come with me?” I hesitated to answer but decided to decline as the mound of homework on my desk seemed to grow by the second. “Ok..suit yourself.” she replied with a hint of attitude. “Just remember...you’ll only regret the things that never happened.”

BEEP! BEEP! I tossed in bed and stretch my hand out towards my bedside table to check the call on my phone. The number was unknown, it was 3:08 in the morning and I had four other missed calls from the same number. I answered, heard heaving breathing from the other side of the line, and then heard the words, “There has been an accident. “

I threw off my comforter, slid on a pair of old worn down boots, and grabbed my coat on the wait out the door. My hand shook the gears into drive and I flew out of my driveway. The wheel shook with each turn as I couldn’t keep my hands from shaking. I called back the unknown number and was directed to the scene of the accident. I sped about a mile down the highway and pulled over to the scene of the accident.

Sirens filled the painful silence, lights flashed to illuminate the night sky, and in the midst of it all Caitlyn laid so peacefully in the back seat of the wrecked car. Her hair still auburn and effortless, her face still so gentle and full of life. I stumbled over to the car, tears filling my eyes, and so little hope filling my body.

I just wanted to scream, “IM THE ONE WHO’S SUPPOSED TO DIE. NOT HER, ME!” I didn’t matter how loud I screamed or who heard me. She was dead and I was alive. This isn’t the way it was supposed to end. I never planned on this happening. I also never planned on being diagnosed with cancer at 12 so I guess our fate is out of our hands. We can plan our whole lives out one day and the next we’re lying dead in a hospital bed.

Like I said before death is inevitable. Still to this very day I believe that wholeheartedly. However I have learned from Caitlyn that death is inevitable, but living isn’t. Living is something only some of us are wise enough to do in our years here on earth. The rest of us are simply alive, getting through each day. Getting through each day is by no means living. Living is living every day with no regrets and living like each day is your last.

Before I met Caitlyn I wasn’t living, I was alive. I let cancer take over my soul as well as my body. I got through each day and that’s something I will always regret. What I won’t regret is taking a chance and handing Caitlyn that stubby pencil on the first day of english class. All those nights we spent up in her treehouse talking, laughing, playing, and just thinking.

She taught me how to live while I was dying. I cannot begin to express how grateful I am for that. Within three years of our high school career she gave me a new life, a life I wouldn’t have thought possible before I met her. A life where cancer doesn’t define you but only slows you down.

Not every story has a happy ending or a superhero in a cape coming in to save the day. Mine in particular has none of that. I have a best friend who passed away, cancer all over me, a stubby old pencil, and the lessons I’ve learned from her. For me, that’s all I need. If this is all I get in life I’ll be satisfied. In 3 years, 1,095 days, 26, 280 hours, I was given a lifetime.

So Caitlyn, thank you for everything you’ve given me. You gave me my life back when cancer took it away. Now I’m living with no regrets, no fear, and no hesitation. I may be sick and worn down like that stubby little pencil, but I can still write just fine.