Frozen Tears (A JackSepticEye Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

Osteosarcoma. Also known as a tumorous cancer that occurs in bone. My mom has cancer in her left leg.

My heart stopped. I flew open my bedroom door and crashed into my pillows. Mom has cancer in her leg?! Mom has cancer in her leg... "Why God, why?" I sobbed. "Why her?"

I knew I shouldn't blame Him, but I was so furious, so upset. Mom had to go through so much, she went through a lot... and now cancer?!

I threw my tear-soaked pillow at the wall, and curled up in my blanket. I bawled, sobbed, whimpered for what seemed like forever until Dad invited himself in my room. He was shedding tears of his own.

"I know this isn't something easy to talk about..." He sat beside me on the bed. "But..."

"But what?" I wheezed, wiping my eyes. I hate being seen crying, even by people I'm close with. No one looks pretty when they cry.

He sniffled. He didn't seem to know what to say. I didn't blame him.

I continued crying, hiding under the pillow. It was such a good Friday, nothing could have gone wrong. How could have anything go wrong?

Even with the loud sobbing, I was drowned within the panic of my own thoughts, little voices inside my head. It was as if I had schizophrenia.

Stop crying!
You're weak!
Get over it!
It's not like she isn't going to get a prosthetic leg!

Then my hopes starting lifting. She could always get a prosthetic leg, right? It might not be as bad as it sounds. It's better losing a leg than the person itself.

"Can she..." I sniffled. "Can she get a prosthetic...?"

"I hope so," Dad muttered. "I don't know how bad it is, but all we can do is hope."

Hope. How can there be hope when cancer's involved?

"We're going to the hospital tomorrow morning," he said as he brought in towels. "So have a shower and try to go to sleep, okay?"

"Dad, I can't just pretend this didn't happen!" I protested.

"It's late," he retorted. "And what else can we do now?"

He has a point, but I shook my head anyway.

He gives me a kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight Sam. Things will get better, I promise."

When he left, I slammed the door shut. I've never been so angry. I gathered my pyjamas and towels and headed off to the shower. A nice, cold shower's relaxing. It always calms me down when I have a bad day.

As the water trickled down my skin, and shivers shot up my spine, I tried not to think about Mom. But to imagine that cheerful smile, her joyful attitude, and amazing positivity all gone? I couldn't believe so myself.

I hopped out of the shower and leaped in my pyjamas. The moisture helped the burning of my puffy red eyes, and my nose cleared up a bit.

I dragged myself to my bed and kneeled down. "Lord, please come to my Mom's assistance," I whispered out loud. "Send her the healing of Raphael, the protection of Michael, the courage of Gabriel, and the wisdom of Uriel. Please forgive me for blaming you, I know it was wrong and sinful of me to do that, I am ashamed. I renew my dedication to you and ask for you to pardon my sins. Amen." I prayed.

Mom and Dad aren't religious, but I pray every night, get away with silently saying grace before dinner, and I borrowed April's Holy Bible to read. I made sure it was well hidden underneath my bed.

I slid beneath the sheets and turned off my lamp. I twisted and turned in bed, worrying about Mom. I managed to drift off to sleep with countless thoughts buried in my head.

*****

"Mom!" I dashed into the room and to the gurney where Mom lied, all pale and sick.

"Sam!" She spread her boney arms out for a hug.

I threw myself into her arms, but I was careful not to crash into her. "Mom, what happened?!"

"Calm down, sweetie," she pet my head. "It's alright."

"How can it be alright?" I spat. "You have cancer for crying out loud!"

"Honey, I'm just as distraught as you are, but I promise everything's okay. I have to get my leg amputated immediately or else the cancer will spread." She explained.

"So you're not going to die?" Dad exclaimed.

"No."

"Oh my God!" I cursed as I lunged myself at her for another hug. Tears rolled down my cheek onto her shoulder.

"What did I tell ya?" Dad rubbed my shoulder. "Things will get better."

I pulled myself away to get a clear glimpse of Mom. Her auburn hair was streaked with grey, wrinkles started forming on her face, and her dull hazel eyes stared into mine. She might be only be 38, but she's getting old.

"Hey, I got this for you," She pulled out a gift wrapped up in pink, striped with strawberries. "I thought you might like it."

I grabbed it and ripped open the wrapping. I slid the lid off a red box and searched through the pink tissue paper to find a white Holy Bible, an angel figurine, and a wooden cross bracelet. I glanced between Dad and Mom. "You remembered?"

They nodded with the brightest smiles on their faces.

"I thought you would have never gave me all this!" I pulled the bracelet over my wrist.

"We might not believe in the same religion, but the look of disappointment on your face when we told you there isn't a God really upset us," Dad explained. "We felt bad, we still do. You have the right to believe in your own religion, and it's wrong of us to tell you otherwise."

I exhaled a big sigh of relief. It was so pressuring to have parents try to push you out of your beliefs. "It's okay. I shrugged it off." I peered at Mom. "I prayed for you last night."

I expected a frown, but instead Mom smiled. She kissed my head. "Things will get better. I had depression for years, until I met your father through YouTube. Things will always get better, remember that."