The Dying Boy #FreeTheLGBT

Chapter One

Present

Chapter One

Cancer is a deadly disease I guess, but I've been living with it for as along I could remember actually and I'm quite sure I'm not gonna reach my twentieth birthday. It's okay though because I have accepted my faith and I consider myself lucky that I've reached this far in life.

When I was younger I remembered my mom and dad crying when I was taken to the hospital because I suddenly fainted at school. I still remembered their faces. It's was like their world was shattered. Like nothing could fix it. Even growing up they were still saddened by my situation, but it's not like I can help it you know.

The worst part was that countless visits to hospitals and constantly swallowing pills everyday for eleven years. I loathed the hospitals since I was young because I could practically smell death in the air as soon as I entered it and even now I still hated them. It became a daily occurrence that I was in a hospital when growing up and when I  was fifteen years I started chemotherapy, but as you can see it was a huge mistake.

Not even five months into the treatment my doctor basically ordered my parents to drop me out of school because contrary to popular belief chemotherapy had huge side effects on me. My mom wanted to get a teacher to homeschool me, but I declined like always because what's the point in getting one? I know I'm going to die anytime now so what's the point of getting an education when I won't be even using the knowledge in the future to find a job.

At this point I just don't care if I die because nobody is gonna remember me if I die, with the exception of my parents that is. I know they try to make myself be remembered, but I already accept that when I die it won't make a single dent in the human existence.

I know that saying that my parents are worried about me is a huge understatement because they constantly smother me and ask me the same question over and over again, "Are you okay?"

I just want to scream at them a "no", but I'm holding that for some other day. I always tell them a yes because quite frankly they would have me sent back to the Emergency Room if I told them a no so I that's out of the box.

I find it really annoying that they care too much about me and the constantly shower me with gifts. I asked once about why they continue doing that, but I was just given a shrug and that only popped up many more questions in my head.

My mom always pestered me to socialize with people and forced me to attend some cancers support groups. She always taught that If I hung around with people who were suffering the same fate as me I would eventually make friends and befriend them.

I made friends yes, but I didn't put much effort into it because I knew they were going to die. They are like an atomic bomb, once it exploded it destroys and affects everyone and everything around it. That's the main reason I choose not to be close around because if they died sooner or later I wouldn't be affected much.

I put up these huge thick walls around myself because I hated being in pain. I suffered so much of it because my same friends from the cancer support group were slowly perishing and somebody else came to take their place within a week span. It was sad and disheartening because they all hope to be free from this fucked up disease, but all their hope comes crashing down when they are given news that the cancer has spread or it has come back with a vengeance.

During my years of attending the group I witnessed many deaths of the persons who attended it. It was sad to say the least, but I went to twenty one funerals during my eight years in the support group. Not even once did the ones who died showed that cancer affected their daily lives, but now I know why they did that. They put up a facade to show the same members that no matter what deadly disease you have, you always have to be happy and positive. 

Some of them never showed even an once of despair when they were told that they are gonna die soon and that what I considered brave. They made most of their remaining time on earth very worthwhile and I was somewhat glad that they were spending their time with me, which I never understood because I never liked interacting with people.

When I first joined I was quite nervous because I didn't know how to interact with people. I still remembered those days when I was never a talker because I loathed when I talked about my life experiences with cancer. Why would I want to talk about that? It was definitely a sore subject for me because I hated it.

I was the only quiet one in the group throughout the many years, but suddenly I started talking and participating more in the activities two years ago. I was happy for the first time in years, but I should've known better because it all came crashing down when the cancer spread further and unfortunate incident happened.

After those two horrible experiences I returned to my quiet self and put up these walls that were even more higher and thicker than the last ones because of the incident that happened no more than two years ago. It still hurts me to the core even when I just even think about it and that's what made me open my eyes and finally I accepted my faith of dying because of this disease.