Any Worse?
When Amanda woke up, she was violently ill. She had to miss school and her mom drove her to the hospital. A place she doesn't visit often due to her sight. We sit in the hospital room for hours and hours until the doctor finally comes back in the room to tell us some horrific news. "Amanda. I'm sorry to tell you but you have stage 3 terminal ovarian cancer. There's nothing we can do I'm so sorry." Her mom looks shocked while Amanda just looked more... depressed. I, on the other hand, was both in denial and happy. When she dies, we can be together. I know how selfish that sounds, which is why I'm in denial. Not my beautiful Amanda. She hasn't yet blessed this Earth with her presence.
Her mother asked the question we were all thinking, "How long does she has left?"
The doctor looked sad. "About a year." Her mother starts sobbing and Amanda just looked like she accepted it already. "So, no chemo can help?" Amanda asks. The doctor shakes his head. I yell at him, "THEN HOW CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF A DOCTOR?!" I start to cry as her mom looks my way. She sees the bloody tears streaming down my face as I try to wipe them away. I've never felt this defeated since I found out I was dead. Her mom shot daggers at me, but didn't really acknowledge me.
Her baby was dying and she didn't have much time left with her. She didn't give a single f*ck about me and my attachment. And for once, I couldn't blame her..
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