Westley has always known Claire. She's always been a constant in his life, whether it be as his babysitter, his secret Santa, as his pretend-girlfriend, his confident, as the person he could always rely on.
But she's also always been the girl he lov...
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I'm fourteen years old and my mom just died. It took her seven months after her cancer diagnosis to pass away. It was a malignant form of pancreatic cancer that spread almost everywhere. There was nothing to do.
She's dead and I'm so mad at her. Couldn't she take better care of herself? How could she let it go so bad so fast? Hadn't she felt it, how wrong she was inside? Why did she put off going to see the doctor's for so long? And she knew when we went on that family trip. I only learned about two months after the diagnosis, when she couldn't hide how bad she was feeling anymore. Why didn't she tell me earlier? It would have been more time for me to get prepared.
I've barely talked with my father in the last few days since she died. He's just been hiding in their room.
When she got the diagnosis their relationship completely shifted. They used to scream at each other and suddenly, they were crying in each other's arms, always trying to hold each other's hands, repeating over and over that they loved each other.
I think about how stupid it is they wasted all these years being mad at each other all the time if they actually did love each other.
Claire is here. Claire came back. She dropped everything and came to help us. Her mom is there too, helping with the funeral preparation and keeping us fed.
All I really care about is having Claire back though.
One evening she comes by our house and we go for a walk around the neighbourhood. We don't talk. I just cry not so silently beside her while she strokes my back comfortingly now and then.
"Thank you for being here."
"What kind of girlfriend would I be if I wasn't here for you right now?" she says teasingly, trying to lighten up my mood, as she wraps an arm around my shoulder.
