I want to be strong for my daughter but I keep on failing. The words of Dr Myron repeated in my head over and over again.“Her cancer is hitting stage three. Her life is at risk.”I'm at the edge of losing Rose.I sat still on my chair in the doctor's office, actually I was numb. I had gone into an endless reverie that I thought I would never come out from.“Mr Arthur.” I heard the doctor call out, I struggled with myself to bring myself to my draining reality.I looked at him with zero emotions on my face, just a blank glare.My heart felt heavy.My mind was clouded in a thick dark fog.“You seemed lost; I called you several times, Mr. Arthur.”“I'm sorry,” I said weakly.Dr Myron took a deep sigh. “I know this is a tough one for you, but we've had similar cases; it wasn't as bad as Rose's Cass, but I assure you that we will do our best to lengthen her life to the best of our knowledge.”He leaned into the table as he spoke, cupping his chin with the back of his palm.I inhaled de
There was a large troop of horses stomping in my head, or at least that was what it felt like.Beep. Beep.Where am I? oh, the damn hospital.if I had just snuck out of the lab, I wouldn't have been here. I winced at the that surged through my head. I opened my eyes slowly; my vision was blurry for a few seconds before it balanced.I lifted my hands to hold my pounding head, it felt heavy.There were tubes attached to my hands, restricting me from reaching for my head.I heard the door of the ward open up, heavy boot-like footsteps stumbled on the floor, and it got louder until it came to a halt. In front of my bed.“Dad!”I couldn't hear myself speak but I wished he saw the excitement on my face the moment I saw him.Was he sad?Myriad expressions swarm across his handsome features, shock and grief were evident.“My princess.” He said in a wavering voice. “You're awake.” He continued, I saw tears beginning to cloud his eyes. His eyes were puffy, causing retention in the tissue a
Our living room was small, with a few comfortable white couches neatly arranged in it.My dad had decorated it simple but beautiful. The wall where the TV was positioned was lined with trays and cupboards, fancy objects that were kept there whose functions I couldn't decipher.There was just one window on the left wall from where I sat.I had dimmed the lights; they made me squint my eyes each time I entered the room.I love my room dark. The eerily sound that came from the clock ticking on the wall stood out in the deafening silence.The TV was muted, I muted it myself.Why? I didn't fucking know.I was in my usual off-mode today.My eyes were glued to the muted TV. It was one of my favorite TV shows.My muse, my wannabe woman was a guest in the show.Emily Brooker, the legendary city queen of New York City. She was a popular runway model in her prime.I've read every documentary about her, read all the articles I could find that had her face on it.Was it the Aura she possessed?
I'm glad I finally knew what I was dealing with.I had surfed through Google to give me a name for these changes in my body until I saw it boldly written down in that envelope.I couldn't be mad at my Dad, I would do the same if I was in his position.If I felt anything, it was fear.Fear of what my life had become.Stage 3 and still progressing.The night I found out I had leukemia, another incident occurred that landed me in the hands of Dr. Myron again.I showed my father that envelope while he was in the kitchen; he was juicing out oranges to use with our dinner at the moment I stood at the door. his eyes zeroed on the envelope when he saw that I had the truth he had been hiding from me in my hands.He stopped mid-air to look at the envelope in my hands; the knife used to cut the oranges into two was on his right.“The day I was admitted to the hospital was the day you knew about my sickness; why didn't you tell me? Why let me know this way..” I melted down, bawling. My Dad, seei
It was a 30-minute ride to the airport; we arrived earlier than expected. I was hoping to see Morris' cute little face pissed as he was a little too impatient for his age. Miss Beatrice would have been buzzing either me or Dad's phone.We were out in the terminal, expecting to see them.I sat.My Dad was getting worked up, he strolled from pillar to post.“We could go grab some snacks, Miss Beatrice is gonna call when they've arrived.”“I'm starving,” I added that. He wouldn't object to that one. Baby Rose always got to eat.I wouldn't want him worrying over situations that were far from serious.“Right.” he let out a wheeze.“Yeah.”“Come with me, Rose; what would you like to eat? I know mine.”He walked over to where I sat to help me up from my seat. Urgh…Does he have to?“You know, my usuals.”Cheesecake.It always was, and always will be.That's the only snack that entered my mouth, except some I took unconsciously which wasn't possible.In the nineteen years of my life, I’ve al
There's nothing that makes me happier than when things go as I'd planned them to. I stared at the silky red gown that was hung in my closet. I've admired it from the moment Miss Beatrice brought it home, she had good taste.I love that woman.It was a red v-neck body con dress with shiny stones neatly dispersed on it; the stones were clustered at the upper part and were less at the lower part.My whole back was open I had put it on earlier, it fit me perfectly. Although I had lost so much weight, my curves were undeniably visible. The dress was far above my knee and I wouldn’t say I wouldn't be so conscious of my exposed body because I definitely will.“Knock knock.”I gasped. I turned to see Miss Beatrice at the door; she stuck her head inside the room.“You scared me.” Placing my hands on my chest with my mouth opened slightly like I'd seen a ghost.She shrugged.“Stop being overly dramatic, Rose. You left your door half open,” she said as she let herself inside.I liked the way s
I was out to burn this prom to the ground, to burn out this sadness that dwelled in the pit of my chest and watch the smoke evaporate into the atmosphere, to solo dance till my legs gave out.I was a bit strong to carry that out.I was not here alone. Miss Beatrice was here with me and Morris; of course, we couldn't leave him behind.They just had to be there to take pictures with me and go back home, I was going to get back home on my own.“Rose Clifford!” Miss Beatrice's high-pitched voice bounced from the vinyl interior of the car straight to my eardrums“Yes, Miss Beatrice Clifford.” “Now I need you to listen to the fuck up.” She said the f-word inaudibly as she didn't want Morris to pick that up.“When you get in, please, I beg you, young lady, do not try to get drunk. Don't break any stuff because I'm not gonna pay shit.”Saying shit inaudibly.“Got that?”“Got that right ma'am.”Only if she had never tasted anything other than freshly squeezed fruit juices.Speaking of breakin
“I warned you about this, didn't I?” I replayed what happened to me and Gibson at the prom yesterday.What I did felt right until I sat for counseling on Miss Beatrice's custody.We were on the small porch of our house; my head was faced down while she kept ranting about yesterday by my side. I sat on the slab staring at the neatly cut lawn. The lawn has never been as fascinating as I was in my entire existence. Right now, I didn't want to look at her face.“That was a very wrong thing to do; imma be real with you; that nigga looks like he's the only one that cared about you even though your dumb ass keeps pushing him away. What the fuck is wrong with you child?” After maintaining a high pitch of tantrum, the last part came out as a whisper.“I'm sorry.”“Mm-hmm, you're gonna hold that back." She said holding up her arm, her index finger pointing at me."I will be putting out the whole mess you did right now in your face, starting from when you spilled that gentleman vodka on his fin