Taken Away

Everyone gets headaches, right? My fingers creep across the base of my skull, prodding gently,searching, not for the tumor but for the absence of it.

Moments ago a stranger in a white uniform presented me with a scan of my head, between what looked like my spine and my brain stem the doctor had circled a red and yellow oval; a tumor.

I shook the doctor’s hand and smiled, thanking him as if he had healed me and the next time we would meet he could take off my cast. They can fix this; I told myself… they can fix anything.

My mother told me to meet her in the car. She needed to talk to the doctor, something about insurance. I couldn’t help but notice a hurried attempt to wipe away her tears before joining me in the car.
I ask her what is wrong.
"Nothing", she recomposes herself slightly, "Wendy’s or Burger King?"
Sure, Wendy’s, I reply, still caressing the back of my neck.

A mid class collapse from my desk to the clod tile brings me back to the emergency room before my next scheduled appointment. This time both my parents arrive and again upon leaving they ask to meet me in the car so the can clear up an insurance problem with the doctor. I press my ear against the thin plastic door, hoping to listen to financial bulls*** and mumbling about coverage, dreading a hidden prognosis, a time line.

The doctors words were daggers, thrust into my stomach; the tumor is growing more rapidly than we anticipated; it’s putting pressure on his brain stem.
"How long?" My father asked, twisting the blade.
"Six months, a year if he’s lucky," Mom quietly cries.

A blink, a breath, sweaty, wrinkled, sleepless sheets, night, day, everything mixes and nothing matters. Questions; why me? How could this happen to me? My grandparents still live, how can I die?...

"Mikey, Mikey"… A seven year old hand prods at my motionless body.
Get out! I wail into my pillow, unable to look at a face I would soon say goodbye to, at hands I would never hold again, at a brother, lost forever.

I could not control it. Rage, fear, everything built up and I began to unleash, to destroy. Yelling and crying, I break everything I can put my fist into.

Destruction gives me control and even solace. The walls did not break my knuckles and my fingers, I broke my hands. I had control of my destiny.

The sun rises and sets, I watch and realize that I do not want one more day or one more week, I want my life. Ohh! What I would give to have my life; anything, I tell myself, anything.

One day I lose the ability to hear out of my left ear and move the fingers on my left hand.

More and more people show up at the house, most of them distant relatives and family friends. I stare at these vibrant lives with cloudy eyes, knowing that any emotion will only be regretted, will only breed more pain.

School tortures me; I cringe at the sight of my friends and try to distance myself from them. Everyone is so hopeful, so alive. I talk less now, my teachers understand, they leave me be.

One day the budding trees prompt me to quit pretending, to realize that life will go one without me. So, I stand up in the middle of class and walk out, letting my feet decide my destination.

I look at no one, for I am alone. The wind blows me toward the water, the ever flowing timeless river and I wade out into the chilly current. My hand, gliding across the surface creates a wake, an imprint, an elegant disturbance.

I gaze up at the fading moon(or sun?) surrounded by a sea of bright blue and feel small, insignificant, only a tiny blip in the universe. My dying body falls into the frigid water. I watch the sky until I close my eyes for the last time and the endless current takes me away.