UNEDITED
Not all storms come to disrupt your life, some come to clear your path.
Those are the words that Justin McCallister has been repeating in his mind since the day he was diagnosed with a non-cancerous brain tumour that's been causing partial...
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Justin
Mid-October arrives and everything is still the same.
Just like any other day, I get up, get ready, eat breakfast, swallow a mass number of pills that leave a disgusting taste coating my tongue, and then Mom drives me to school.
"Have a good day, honey," Mom says as I step out of the car.
With my back facing her, I'm able to hide the look of defeat I know is visible on my face.
For as long as I've had epilepsy, no day has been a good day. Sure, I smile and have fun, but beneath the act is the underlying fear of unpredictability – I never know when I'm going to have a seizure until it's too late. And when I do have them, I don't know if it's going to be a simple partial or jump up a level.
I'm ready to act like my good old fake self and tell Mom she doesn't need to worry when I see her.
Other than English class, I haven't seen much of Addie. I have seen her enough to know that she's always with three other girls, though. So seeing her walking alone along the sidewalk is new.
But what's even more aberrant is the fact that she looks up from the book she's reading, the spine bent in an unnatural way, smiles at me, and starts walking over.
My palms begin to sweat.
I don't see much of Addie, but that doesn't mean we don't talk during English. Since the day after I texted her, we've become acquaintances during that class. Our conversations haven't held much depth, which is a good thing in my opinion – I'm tired of telling people what's wrong with me. Through the limited interaction, though, I've been able to pick out a few traits: she's kind-hearted, stunningly gorgeous, shy, and there's a slight cocky smoulder beneath the shyness.
I quickly turn around. "Yeah, Mom," I nod, barely paying attention to her because all I can think about is the girl coming up behind me. "Thanks. You too. See ya." I slam the door and, in an abrupt fashion, begin striding for the entrance to the school.
"Justin!"
I freeze, squeezing my eyes shut and resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. Addie is a sweetheart – she's a breath of fresh air compared to the other idiot peers I've gotten to know over the years – but I've lost the urge to become friends with anyone. What's the point when all they do is leave you behind? There have been multiple circumstances that have involved me telling a person I thought was my friend what I've been through and am still facing – I trust them enough to delve deep into the thoughts I try to keep buried beneath my heart – only to have them leave me behind and not bother to look back.
You'd think I'd become numb to that specific type of pain, but it hurts more and more each time.
That's why I avoid people.
Because I can't handle the idea of it happening again and making me feel like someone's ripped my heart out, thrown it to the dirt, and stomped on it.
I'm ready to keep walking; ignore Addie completely. Though she's sweet, I can't risk it. My mental physique can't handle it.
