"What are you digging from the side of the couch? Did you drop rice there? I told you not to eat on the couch! Now go and sit at the dining table!" my mum yelled at my little sister who looked startled and then quietly did what she was asked to do.
"Maa, can I borrow one of your dresses? I have that wedding thing to attend tomorrow," I said as I picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and my mum peeked at me from above her magazine.
"Yeah, of course, dear," she replied with a smile, her entire demeanour changing. "We can even go shopping to buy some new clothes for you--- "
"No, no. I told you before also, I'm not going to let you waste any money on me." I bit into the apple and leaned against the wall. She looked conflicted, but I gave her a reassuring smile. I didn't want her to buy clothes which would only last till I'm alive. My sister could be given those clothes, but there would be memories of me attached and it would be unfair to her. I didn't want my sister to be sad.
Suddenly, my sister started coughing loudly.
"Swallow properly, Gemma!" my mum roared and she flinched. "Back straight, don't slump!"
Gemma quickly sat erect and I looked at my own hunched shoulders which didn't bother mum. My mum was soft on me and this was all because of the reason that I wasn't going to be here anymore. My mum was half Asian and half white, but let me tell you, she had really embraced her Asian roots. She lived up to every stereotype of an Asian mother, she was strict, a tad conservative and looked closely as to how we performed academically. I was saved from her wrath because I had quit school almost two years ago, was homeschooled after that for less than six months and finally quit that too when I couldn't do it anymore and just wanted to help my grandpa at his flower shop.
My mum's and my relationship was just recuperating from the devastating effects of the news that I was going to stop my treatments a couple of weeks ago. There was only a slim chance that I could live more since cancer had spread almost everywhere and there was no use enduring the pain of the treatments to live a little longer life. It was by far, the most difficult, but the best decision I had to make and it took me hours to think and days to convince my mum. The doctors supported my decision which made a great impact on my mum as she reluctantly accepted. Deep down, I knew that she was mad at me for this, but I knew that she had seen me suffer. She loved me and wanted to give me what I truly desired.
I was under palliative care now which helped me to ease my pain and suffering. It wasn't that I had given up on my life, but I just chose what was best for me. To stop the treatments wasn't like suicide, it was to help me lead a healthier life in whatever time was left. I was in the final stage of grief- acceptance and I had been in this stage for quite a long time. The doctors said that I took the news of dying better than the other patients did, but I honestly knew that I hadn't.
I was past the horrifying days where the news of my cancer had just dawned on our family and everyone had gone into a state of hysteria. It was almost three years ago, but the memories were still vivid. Our entire house was painted in the darkest shade of black and grey as everyone looked sombre and ruined. I used to not leave the room and cry endlessly until my mum or my sister used to come to my room with a plate of food.
Countless therapy sessions for me and my entire family, my family and friends reading books about 'How to cope with a cancer patient- Tips and Tricks,' like I was some sort of sorcery or mystery that people wanted to deduce. In all this mayhem, Jamal made me feel better with his frivolous jokes.
"Since you don't want to go shopping, you can wear the pale pink dress I had bought. I have just worn it once," my mum said while walking towards the kitchen and gently snatched the half-eaten apple from me. "It's dinner time dear, and one of your favourites is cooked, corn tortillas with mushroom gravy."
"Thanks maa." I cracked a half-smile. Rarely any days the dishes I disliked were cooked because of obvious reasons, but it didn't matter much. The medicines I took had destructed my taste buds.
"Gemma, drink water after you finish your meal," my mum ordered suddenly and Gemma quietly nodded.
"Maa, go easy on Gemma--- "
"You don't get to say what I do, I'm your mother, Joy," she said sternly and I pulled her arm.
"Come on, she's just fifteen and she's doing far better than the other kids like her. You cannot always be so strict with her, she'll--- "
"The world's a cruel place, honey, and a girl like her will be crushed. I'm telling you, she needs to be strong and independent," she retorted and I sighed audibly.
"Alright, but try to be soft on her. She feels like you don't love her," I said gingerly and my mum gazed at me, then she nodded faintly.
My mum was bullied because she was the shy, Asian kid, not that anything was wrong with it, but she was just different than the rest of the crowd at that time. My grumpy grandpa was really tough on her after my grandma died and it was because of his influence and her past experience that she was so hard on us. Probably.
Ever since I got cancer, she became real gentle with me. It was because of how gloomy I had become in comparison to my earlier life. My brother who was now twenty-three was at that time still in college, so my mum took out all her frustration and anger on my unsuspecting, little sister. Besides, my mum saw herself in Gemma who looked exactly like my mum- with her silky-black hair, warm brown eyes and porcelain-like skin along with her personality of being shy and introverted which was extreme at times because of her condition. On the other hand, my brother Shaun and me looked like my father with our typical blonde hair and blue eyes.
After eating dinner with my mum and dad who had just returned from work, I sat on the wicker chair in the porch to read a book. I heard some shuffling from the bushes, some giggling and raised my eyebrows. Suddenly, a tall, dark figure emerged out and screamed, "Boo!"
I narrowed my eyes at Jamal who scrunched his nose in disappointment when he realized that I wasn't a bit scared. I flashed a saccharine smile and continued to flip through the pages when he cursed, "Damn, it's that hard to scare a dying girl? I was hidden in the bushes for the past fifteen minutes with the bugs biting my ass, at least, appreciate my efforts."
"Ooh, Jamie, I got soo scared! I almost crapped my pants!"
"Alright, no need to be so cynical," he muttered dejectedly and frowned when he noticed the book in my lap. "Girl, you're dying---"
"Oh, I didn't know that! Thanks for enlightening me."
"Yeah, yeah, stop, it's getting annoying." He scowled and reached out in an attempt to snatch the book. I quickly held it against my chest and shrank back. "Really? You need to have some real fun."
"Real fun like what? Getting wasted in a bar while pretending to be older or visiting a hooker---"
"Hush, don't let my secrets out," he whispered playfully and my lips twitched upwards. "You need to enjoy, live up to all those shitty quotes about making your life the fullest and blah blah. You need a bucket list."
"No---"
"Come on, it'll be fun!"
"You know what happened to my last bucket list, right?" I reminded solemnly and he opened his mouth to protest, but I shook my head. "I know it was two years ago, but I let everyone down, Jamie. I'm way past that rebellious stage, it's just a cliché and I don't want to die with people thinking of me as some selfish brat."
Two years ago, when I had almost gotten used to my cancer routine, I got these extraordinary ideas of a normal bucket list influenced by movies and friends. I didn't get past completing even two tasks in the bucket list when I was caught red-handed shoplifting and underage drinking. It felt like I had embarrassed my entire family and from that moment onwards, I swore that in the name of cancer, I won't go around smuggling and doing crimes which would only taint my soul and leave me feeling more hollow and dejected.
"Fair enough, but what's so interesting in that book anyway?" Jamal asked casually and I gazed at him like he had eaten my last pizza slice. I gave him an incredulous look like 'dude, seriously,' and he shrugged. "Yeah, tell me 'cause I sleep halfway through even picture books."
I sighed and leaned back on the chair. "I just like to lose myself in fiction to forget reality. You know, a reality where my life's too short to do stuff like they do in books. Or even in real life like falling in love, having children, growing old, finding some treasure in some remote island, murdering someone--- "
"You can still do that, I'll help you hide the body," he suggested while waggling his eyebrows and because of his creepy expression, I laughed.
"It was just an example. No, but really, the quote about books giving a thousand lives is true. I'm a living, somewhat breathing example of that," I said sincerely and suddenly, I heard my mum's voice.
"JJ, what are you doing outside? Come in, there are a lot of mosquitoes out there!" my mum shouted and I got up from my chair. "Is someone there with you?"
"Oh shit," Jamal cursed as his eyes widened and he stumbled towards the bush. "Don't tell her I was here, she'll---"
"Yeah, yeah, alright," I muttered and cocked my head towards the door. "Maa, Jamal is here!"
"Hell naw, why did you do that?" he whined as he scrambled from the bush. "I really hate you JJ, I can't believe I said that to a dying girl."
My mum emerged out of the house with a spatula in her hand.
I stared at my reflection, not a pleasant sight, I knew. Granted I had blonde hair and blue eyes, supposedly striking features, but it was really not. Even when I didn't have cancer, I wasn't considered pretty, maybe average or little above average [depending on how I dressed] because my eyebrows were light, my forehead a little wide and the tip of my nose so sharp that it could be used as a weapon to stab people. Now add cancer to this entire mixture of absurd genes, didn't fit, right? Definitely not.I had no complaint about my eyes because they were fine, but over the years of battling cancer, my eyes definitely lost its sparkle. I had scanty eyelashes and a bit of hair on my head which barely reached to my neck [much better than when I was bald and roamed around with a queer wig on my head] and I had certainly gotten thin in all parts of my body, except my cheeks.My chubby cheeks made my face look rounder and my nose sharper than ever. I had become so pale with no presence of the
"I, Katherine Joseph, take you, Simon Pritchett, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part," Eliza's sister Katherine said fervently and tears sprang in my eyes.I would never get to fall in love or get to dress in white while my mum and sister helped me with my makeup. I would never get to hear, 'you're a beautiful bride,' from my brother or get to walk down the aisle with my dad. I would never get to commit to a man, share vows, carry his children, bicker over trivial issues, go on holiday trips and grow old with him. I would never get to truly, madly and deeply fall in love with someone.I silently blinked back my tears and took a glimpse of Eliza seated on the left side in the front row, her hands clutching her fancy gown tightly. Although she tried to remain stoic, I could see her lips quivering and hands trembling. She didn't have to wallow in misery, she had eig
"Here are your lilies, Uncle Desmond," I said with a small smile and Uncle Desmond smiled back at me warmly, his eyes crinkling."Thank you, JJ, and where is your grandpa? That old man has completed seventy-five years and is still working as a young fellow, he deserves a celebration," he said playfully as his eyes twinkled in mischief. "Tell him that his friend's missing him.""Of course, I'll tell him that.""Yes, yes . . . Oh, how I miss those old days where we would just go to the bar, discuss women and sports over a couple of beers. War changed us and then marriage . . . How we both became men from boys and used to talk about being a good father to our children and a good husband . . . " he started reminiscing and trailed off, when he knew that he was going the wrong way- the death of my grandma. His eyes were teary as he let out a light laugh and gathered the lilies in his arms. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, JJ. Give my wishes to your grandpa and take care of him, he gets lonel
My dad, mum, Shaun, Gemma, Logan and I were sitting at the dining table, saying our grace. We weren't particularly religious, but we always prayed during occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, thanksgiving etc. Grandpa and his cousins had gone out to party at a local restaurant where they usually hung out because they had their own fun to catch up on so this left us with only my family and Logan. I expected Logan to grumble about how he had to endure the pain of sitting through the unbearable silence which prevailed because of my mum's and my brother's recent argument. However, he seemed to enjoy the silence since he looked like his usual self, awkward, but a bit calmer.We started to dive in the food which comprised of Vietnamese cuisine which my mum had specially prepared for grandpa since he used to always love what my grandma used to cook for him. Usually, at our home, we didn't have Vietnamese food because my sister couldn't digest strong spices like ginger, garlic, shrimp past
"I need to fix them, Logan, I-I need to fix them all!" I felt myself slip into a state of hysteria because my body started trembling and I started laughing in pity. "It's all because of me, I have to-to fix them all! How can I die peacefully w-when my family's falling apart like that? How can I Logan?"Something snapped in me because I erupted into fresh tears and I couldn't help myself. I buried my face in between my knees and started weeping, my entire body shaking. I could taste the salty tears in my mouth as I tried to wipe them against the fabric of my yoga pants but to no avail. I couldn't stop my tears.I could feel Logan sitting stiffly beside me and I stammered, "I-I'm s-sorry for being s-so pathetic--- ""It's okay . . . Hush now," Logan hushed me and I could feel him rubbing my back, trying to soothe me. I didn't know he was capable of providing me with comfort since he was such a bum most of the time, but my body actually relaxed. I looked up from my knees and turned my ne
"Ah, put it in the box, quick!" I shrieked with laughter as Jamal threw the small crab in the box and Gemma hurriedly shut it. Jamal started breathing heavily while dramatically acting to wipe the imaginary sweat on his forehead. Gemma peered into the box, we had caught four small crabs and the thrill of catching them was still surging through our bodies.Logan was sprawled under a palm tree nearby, leaning against the trunk with his legs fully stretched out and arms casually spread on either side of his body. His eyes were closed peacefully and his head was tilted upwards. The rays of the sun fell over his face and the shadow of the leaves above made the light on his face appear in stripes, which made him look so aesthetically pleasing without even trying."Hey, Logan!" I called out and watched his eyes flutter open as he blinked rapidly at me like he had snapped out of a trance. He always did that. He then scrambled to sit erect and his hands dug in the sand in full alert. "You alri
Logan looked petrifying today with a repugnant odour surrounding him. His eyes were droopy and his clothes scruffy and unkempt. His hair was a tangled mess, the kind where you touch it and your finger would get stuck. There was a dark stubble on his jaw because he hadn't shaved in a while and it looked horrendous. He didn't look one bit good and I didn't blame him. It didn't take me a long while to figure out that he wasn't in his best mental health- depression was ugly.However, I was wondering what had suddenly happened to him today?"Hey, you alright?" I asked cautiously and he just shrugged as if he was physically present but mentally absent. "You can ask my grandpa for a day off if you're sick.""No," he cut me off dismissively because it seemed that he wanted to prove to me that he was fine."Okay, you don't have to come over to my place for lunch. I can tell mum.""No," he said forcefully and added with emphasis, "I'm alright."Those words felt like it held little to no meaning
Third person's POV [Logan]Logan woke up from the bed because of the noise of his phone ringing on the nightstand. He rubbed his eyes lazily, stretched himself before picking up the call. He didn't say anything and let the person who called speak first."Logan, you there?" He heard the familiar voice of his old friend Jerry and swallowed hard. "Did you see the text messages I sent the other day?""Yeah," Logan said in a barely audible voice. "I saw.""So when are you moving out?""Give me some time, I need to figure out--- ""Look, man, I understand, but I'm sorry," Jerry interjected and continued, "I helped you all this while, but I can't anymore. I need to sell the place, I need the money and your rent money isn't enough man.""You can increase the rent, I'll pay," he said with determination while unconsciously fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt."That money won't be sufficient for my mamma's treatments, I have to sell the house."Logan could hear the firmness in Jerry's voice and