posting as a solo but if you think you have some ideas let me know and ill open it up.
"Mr. and Mrs. Davila I am very sorry to tell you this...." they think I can't hear them, but I can, every word. I already know what they are going to say. The cancer is back. I may be young, 16 to be exact, but I am not naïve. I don't want to hear the last of what is going to be said so I get lost in my music. Sara Beth, by Rascal Flatts. I love country music. It talks about life, fun, amazing summer nights with bon fires and friends. There is also a sad part of country music, just as there are sad parts of life: death, losing friends, the war in Iraq, just to name some. When this happened the first time, when I was five, this is the only song I would listen to. I put my iPod on repeat and lose myself in the lyrics, wishing that the boy in the song would be an actual person. That someone would fall in love with me like that, shave their head just so I didn't feel so abnormal, so weird, and they wouldn't be embarrassed to be with me because I know that with cancer comes radiation and chemo, and a bald 16 year old girl. Someone no body would take to prom or homecoming.
"Scarlett," mom says as she taps on my shoulder.
"Mom, I know. Don't say it. I don't want to talk about it. Can you just leave me alone? Please."
"Uh. Sure honey. Me and your father are just going to go home and check on the dogs. We will be back in the morning."
I know I have hurt her with my words. She knows what is going to come with all of this, just as we all do. After ten years of being cancer free, everyone thought I would live the rest of my life healthy. "Ok, mom, uh, can you bring me back my iPod charger? Its going to die soon, and I want to listen to my music."
"Sure honey. We will bring it back with us tomorrow."
"We love you." They say quietly shutting the door behind them. I am alone. I am alone and sick. Staring at blank, white walls, with a powder blue curtain for privacy, the beeps of the monitors is barely noticeable above my music. No one knows this feeling in my family. None of my friends know what its like to have cancer, to not have a boyfriend. To have never had a boyfriend. The only person that would remember me is my parents, and even they would get lost in their own lives, with my older brother and sister, and their kids, I would soon be only a thought in the back of their minds after I am gone.
I catch myself in a yawn and decide to look at the clock. Its almost midnight, I decide that it is time to close my eyes and let my mind drift. Drifting away, that's a nice way to go, isn't it? Just close your eyes and to just drift off, almost like an angel. Now if only I would be an angel to remember. That would be the best. To be remembered by someone, always. to have them never forget about you. That almost sounds conceited, to want to always be remembered. But I don't want to be forgotten after I am six feet under, I don't want someone to always mourn either but to have them remember me, day after day.