I promise

April 20, 2010
By EmoNemo BRONZE, Siren, Wisconsin
EmoNemo BRONZE, Siren, Wisconsin
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth- Pablo Picasso.

I was running. I really couldn’t see through the tears in my eyes. I heard people screaming as I fell on my bed, exasperated. I got up and slammed my door to muffle the angry words. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. My cheeks were wet with fresh tears as I heard a knock on my door. It was my brother. He asked me if I was okay.
“Yeah, but I just hate when they fight.” My brother was 16, I was 13. He had light brown hair, almost a blond, but mine was a dark brown, almost a black. He was tall, ‘bout 6’ 2’’, and I was short, barely 5’ 2’’.
“I know how you feel. It is tough, but we’ll make it through this, I promise.” As he said this, he held my hand. I gave a weak smile before I started crying again. It started about a year ago when my mom found out my dad was cheating on her. My mom took it hard, yelling at us more. Dad was barely home. One day when we came home they told us that they are getting divorced.
I know it is not that bad, but how would you feel if you had your perfect family fall apart and you couldn’t do anything? Just sit there during all the screaming, yelling, cussing and fighting. It just drives me mad.
One night changed it all. My brother and I became very close. He wasn’t just my brother anymore; he was more than a friend, more than anything. He was my guardian angel, here to watch over me, here to save my life and to help me through all the pain.
That night my parents were fighting again, but it got out of hand. Father started cussing, LOUDLY. I burst, yelling at him, telling him to shut up, that he doesn’t know what he is talking about, and to start acting like a father. That made him mad. He lifted his hand and hit me, hard. There was a red hand mark on my face. I stumbled forward, and then fell. I hit something on my hip because it started to hurt, like a stab that was cutting deep.
At the hospital we found out that I had leukemia. Then they started to test my family to see if anyone was a match. My brother, Ben, was a perfect match.
“It is amazing, you two are just like twins,” the doctor said, a little excitement in his voice. Dad was crying, more like sobbing.
I shivered at the memory. Ben pulled me in to a hug. Ben and I have been very careful about what we do. We can’t do sports or anything really physical.
We live with our aunt, Rosemary, who lives in Massachusetts. Dad lives about 10,000,000 miles from us. Mom lives on the other side of the country. Aunt Rosemary and dad always fight about who gets to keep us. It didn’t matter now, all that matters is Ben. I just looked in to his hazel eyes and said, “We’ll make it through it, I promise. He smiled and said, “Always.”
I wanted to freeze that moment. His sparkling eyes and his smile having no trouble shining through my dark world. I can’t, though. He went downstairs to see what is happening. All I heard was footsteps, yelling, and the door slamming before everything went dark. There was sharp pain in my hip. It was there, but the pain was horrible.
“Lilly!!” someone called my name. Their voice was filled with sadness and pain. They picked me up and carried me downstairs. People whispering, the phone keys, and sobs. I could hear faint sirens, horns honking, people talking and cars driving by. The colors, all the colors, so beautiful, bright and precious.
I woke up to see Ben by my side and Aunt Rosemary fast asleep on the couch. The walls were peach and the couches were blue. I could hear Ben mumble something but I couldn’t catch it. I placed my hand on top of his. He looked up, his eyes red and darkened by the black circles. All I could cough out was “I promise.”
“Forever and alwa…” was all I could here before sleep came over me. The pain was back, this time worse. I tried to call out for help but all that came out was a little whimper. Someone called for help and people rushed into the tiny room.
Footsteps all over. I could hear people telling my family to leave the room. Ben refused. He never left my side before, and I knew he wouldn’t now. The doctor sighed and asked him to put on a mask. I could feel someone lift me and put me on a bed, it was stiffer.
The pain was just so alive. It was like fire not wanting to die. It was excruciating. I couldn’t suffer any more.
I could hear them say my leukemia was back, this time worse. They asked my brother to go with them. He wouldn’t move.
“Go,” I said. He hesitated and left. I could here the door shut before I closed my eyes. I felt something in my side.
“We are going to give you a shot for the pain, but it is only temporary,” the doctor said.
That night I had a dream. The dream was about Aunt Rosemary, Ben and me. It was us, but I wasn’t sick. A life with no pain, tears and fighting, everything was perfect. I wanted it to be that way, forever, but I knew it couldn’t happen. I started to cry. I caused my brother and aunt so much pain these last few years. I feel so sad that I put them through this, but am glad they were there so I wouldn’t have to go through this alone. I wanted to just to walk away from it all, but I knew it was a part of me now. I sighed and went on with my dream.

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