Losing Sammy[completed]

Losing Sammy

My heart was racing, and I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. I tried opening the door, but it was stuck. I took in a sharp breath, and continued to jiggle the door knob,terrified for some reason. I felt someone shake my shoulder;easy then violently. I awoke with a start. There was a sour taste in my mouth I couldn't shake. I pulled myself together since it was only a dream, I grab my glasses on the night stand and see who's shaking me. I push the clunky black glasses until they touch my nose; I sigh, wishing I had contacts. "Hey there" I said with a chuckle. It is my little brother, Sammy. A grin spreads across his small pale face, and I can't help but smile too. He has gone into remission, I am so glad to see him(even if it's 7 am on a Saturday morning). "C'mon it's time for my cartoons to be on" Sam exclaims, gently tugging at my arm. "Alright, Alright" I pull back the covers and slip on some house shoes. Our Saturday morning schedule includes Sam waking me up (who needs an alarm clock when you got Sammy?), us watching cartoons while eating some breakfast I fix us, normally being cereal, and mom coming in the living room seeing us both asleep on the way too big couch, and two empty bowls on the ground once filled with sugary cereal.

Chapter Two

Sammy wakes me up(again) on Monday at noon, and I was confused on why he let me sleep so late. Normally, he's bouncing off the walls by 9 am. Then I remembered. He had an early doctors appointment and I guess didn't wake me for it until they got home. Sam looked nice. He was wearing one of those comical shirts with a catchy slang term that won't be "popular" in a few months, and some new jeans mom got him. My eyes flicker open. Even though I've slept so late, I'm still really tired but happy to see Sammy. I sit up in bed and he sits beside me, without his usual too big for his small face grin appearing, I knew something was wrong.

Chapter Three

I try to hold it together,"don't cry in front of him" I thought to myself,"you'll only scare him". Sam hasn't moved for awhile, and all of a sudden he wraps his fraile arms around me and started to sob. We sat there like that, and then I started to as well. "Am I going to die sissy" he whispered, his face laid on my lap, my heart aching for him.We all have to eventually, but I don't think you are anytime soon" I tried to say sounding confident. That was a lie. I knew he was going to die. And soon. Sam has gotten much more weak these past few months, but I haven't faced the circumstance head on like this until now. "Gosh, my Sammy is dying," I thought dryly. I wipe my tears off my cheeks and pick Sam up off the bed, carrying him, crying harder now, to the living room to see if I could find some cartoons to watch while we ate cereal.

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We were out of clean bowls, so I grabbed two cups, blue for Sam and purple for me, to eat some sugary processed flakes that claim that they're healthy.That's fine though, because I like eating cereal out of a cup. Sam was curled up on the couch watching Spongebob when I handed him his Cup O' Cereal. "Thanks" he mumbled, as he crunched up the flakes, smashing them with his spoon. Sam had changed back into his favorite scooby doo pjs before his cartoons started. He muted the tv as a commercial came on and turned to look at me. I had a big mouthful of cereal and I guess I looked funny because he started to giggle. "I don't understand why the people who want to live the most tend to die and the people who want to die end up living" Sam croaked out, his voice cracking as he tried not to start crying again. He sat down the cup and shrugged his shoulders, sighing in the process. Sam is only ten, but the cancer coming when he was eight made him grow up faster than intended. There's no sugar coating it with him. We both fall asleep on that oversized couch and when mom came home I guess she put a blanket over us, because I felt so much warmer and I saw mothers worried stricken face ease some when she covered us two. Two empty cups lay untouched on the ground, unseen.

Chapter Four

Summer break has almost arrived, and I couldn't be more relieved. Even though Sam has been home schooled since he was eight, I still go to a rinky-dink public school. While Sammy was in the hospital I never thought that I had that many tears to cry when the doctors said he wouldn't live to see his teenage years. We didn't tell him that. I guess we were too afraid to let him know that he had maybe 4-5 years left according to the doctors. But Sam could tell he didn't have long by the way we cried. So, that's one reason that I try to be nicer than I was to Sam, and get up at 7 on Saturdays to eat cereal and only to fall back asleep on the couch. It puts a smile on his face, and hardly anything lately can do that. I wrote some songs while Sam was in Chemo and I'd bring my guitar up there and sing and play for him. The doctors liked it too. Some songs I wrote weren't for him, though. One day I was in my room playing it, and he heard the lyrics. Sam walked in, looked at me with big doe eyes, and cried. Not the squalling fit throwing type of crying, it was a silent tear running down your cheeks like a flood type of crying. And then, before I could say anything, he walked out of the room. It was the hardest thing to endure for me at the moment, because I just finished singing about him, not going to live for much longer. I quit writing songs and playing guitar for almost two years because of that. Today, Sam asked me to sing that song to him, start to finish.