Fuck cancer

2.

"How far has the cancer develop?"

"I don't know. All they said was that it's in the final stadium. And I have no idea how many there are."

"Four. There's four of them."

If that was true, which it definitely was, there was no hope of a cure, and I was more than aware of it. I looked away and stared at the blank, bright yellow wall, as my dog jumped onto the old orange couch I was sitting on, right next to me, when a thunder growled.

My mother turned away as well, facing the window, watching the heavy raindrops fall out of the heavy dark clouds and racing down the glass.

I followed her with my eyes as she walked up to it and placed a hand on the cold surface to stare outside.

The shady sky matched with the atmosphere of our hopelessness and had me shivering.

"What exactly did the doctors say?"

The question was more of a whisper, and I was pretty sure she couldn't hear me, but she still tilted her head back in my direction.

I could now see the tears running down her tired face and the bags that formed under them, right with the dark circles.

Her lips moved and formed words, as if they were testing the sound, before they actually made one.

"They said that there's absolutely nothing, nothing that we could do to help her. The cancer is too advanced for a chemo."

"What else?"

"She has maybe 3 days, 3 weeks, 3 months left... It's hard to tell, but she's suffering from lung cancer, esophageal cancer and tracheal cancer."

At the end of the sentence her voice shattered, and she started crying and weeping.

Just like my heart felt, all broken.

And there was absolutely nothing we could possibly do to help her.

Nothing.