Boy

The year is almost over.

I only had this year to live, and I didn’t.

They called it an inoperable brain tumour. Can’t say that I’ve ever heard of an operable one. It wasn’t growing or pressing on anything. It was leaking. Oozing liquid death into my blood.

That news made my mom cry for two weeks.

There was no medication that would help cure me. Only pain killers for those times when I felt like my body was on fire. My dad put the brakes on that. “You can suffer through the pain,” he said. “It will make you stronger.”

The doctor said that if I was extraordinarily lucky, I might make it a year. That was on January 2nd. Great way to start my senior year of high school.

But now we are at December 29th. Only 4 days away from my lucky one year.

Most people would have taken that one year death sentence and saw the world. Maybe risked everyone on some ridiculous stunt like climb Mount Everest in swimming trucks. Others would have surrounded themselves with all their friends, family, loved ones.

What did I do? Or what did I get stuck doing?

Homework. Chores. Just like every other 17 year old with a leaking brain tumour.

What a waste of a year. I could have lived, but didn’t.

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