The Missing Piece by Jessica Baxter

Author:Jessica Baxter [Baxter, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Friday I ditch the Halloween dance, despite my friends’ efforts to pull me out of my room. Instead, I spend the evening Googling homemade remedies for cancer. My eyes scan thousands of browser pages—each claiming a cure for stage four melanoma skin cancer. Green Tea. Vitamin D. Vitamin B17. Eating ⅓ raw food. Stress Management. Sleep. Exercise. And, then before I can stop myself I’m typing the words I promised I’d never think into WebMD.

My heart rips, shatters and splits in two as I try to process the words on the screen. 63%. There’s only a 63% chance of survival. That can’t be possible.

How is it that possible?

The weight of all that we’ll miss out on hangs heavy in the air and pulls on my chest. Graduation, college . . . marriage. It feels as if a toy soldier is stabbing me in the heart, repeatedly, with the butt of its rifle.

My mother can’t be dying—not again. She already faced her one-eyed Cyclopes. Why should she have to defeat it a second time? I quickly scan the screen for a sliver of hope, some sort of silver lining, but nothing surfaces. I clench and unclench my fists, slam my laptop shut, and squeeze my eyes close.

This can’t be happening.

I’ve always known there was a chance that my mother’s cancer would come back, but that’s all I thought it was: a chance. And, now I have to relive it; the chemo, the sleepless nights, the constant throwing up, the lack of appetite. The worst part is, I can’t even be there to comfort my mom.

I shake my head, trying to fathom why my father would do this to me—surely, there must be some strand of humanity left in his soul. After staring blankly at the wall for ten minutes, I push my chair back and snatch my phone off the desk. I’m determined to get to the bottom of this. If my father won’t let me come home, mom will.

I’m too agitated to sit, anxiety and dread pump quickly through my veins. My fingers dial her number and I press the phone to my ear. My mom always has her phone on hand, so it feels odd when I get sent directly to voicemail. The world feels like it’s crashing down on me and there is nothing I can to do to save myself. My heart feels like it weighs fifty pounds.

Calm down. You need to calm down. Ariel, Aurora, Belle, Cinder . . . ella . . . I can't . . . breathe.

My breathing quickens until it’s sharp and ragged. I can’t get a grip on reality, the darkness is taking over and I CAN’T push it away. I feel as if I’m having one of those out of body experiences like Scrooge when he journeys with the ghosts of Christmases past, present, and future. But, unlike Scrooge, I don’t get a do-over. This scene in my life has already been written and there is nothing I can do to change it.

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