A YEAR TO LIVE

Ring! Ring! Ring!

The bell went and I instantly jerked up from my desk, cleaning the fresh drool across my cheek. I rubbed my eyes as I scanned the classroom. Everyone seemed to be putting their books in their bag, I looked across the room to the clock hung on the wall, it was 3pm.

"Okay students. That will be all for today, have a wonderful day." Ms. Adriana, my Economics teacher announced with hands on her broad hips.

Ms. Adriana is my Economics teacher. She is one of the most beautiful teachers in my school but she can be cruel at times. She is over 5'8'' and has really broad hips. Rumour had it that she had done surgery because a student saw an old picture of her on Instagram. She had thin lips and blonde hair but it was obvious that she had black hair before.

"But remember that we have a test on Monday, so study everything we've done so far."

There was a slight groaning from some students, that had to be the lazy ones. I stretched as I got up from my chair and stuffed my bag with my books which was scattered all over my desk. I straightened my jacket and dusted my pleated skirt.

Students hurriedly left the class and I walked towards door but an outstretched arm stopped me, making me halt in my steps.

It had to be Ms. Adriana; the rose tattoo peeking out of her red sleeves gave it out. I turned to face her and the smile she had earlier turned into a frown.

She gestured for me to sit and I sat on the first chair I could spot. She walked around her table and stood in front of me. "What's happening Ms. Brown?"

"Um...I don't know what you're talking about." I pretended not to understand what she was talking about.

"Oh cut it! You know what I'm talking about," she closed her eyes for a second and opened them, "you no longer pay attention; you practically slept throughout the class."

"Um..." Was I could muster as I looked down at my lap and fiddled with my fingers. "I know." I finally said and looked up.

"Good," she flicked her hair over her shoulders, "but I hope remember that you're on a scholarship."

"Yes, I remember."

"Good! But if you as much as get a B on Monday's test, I'll have to report it to the principal, understand?"

I wanted to say yes but my throat went dry and I couldn't say the word. So, I nodded.

She lifted up my chin while gritting her teeth, "I want you to say it."

"Yes Ms. Adriana, I understand."

"Better," she softened her expression into a small smile, "you can go now."

I nodded, got up from the chair and walked towards the door. I walked down the hallway as I tried to avoid being bumped by rushing students.

I got to my locker and opened it, balloons fell out of it and I immediately knew who it was. It had to be Kendall.

I groaned and put some textbooks into bag. I turned and saw the small mirror in my locker, I stared at it and an ebony skinned, black eyed and braided haired girl stared back. I took in a deep breath and closed my locker.

My name is Malia Brown. I am fifteen years old and a Junior in St. Paul's high school. It was named after an apostle who founded the school. But it is a really expensive school and I'm only here because I have a scholarship.

I lived with my mum who's a single mother, Alyssa and my little brother, Tyson. He's seven years old. My dad left us five years ago, I don't really care about him but I wish he could stay and help my mum foot my medical bills.

I have Lymphoma. Lymphoma is a group of blood cell cancers that develop from lymphocytes. There are basically two types; Non-Hodgkin and Hodgkin Lymphoma. According to my doctor, I have Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. I was diagnosed at age 10 and since then, it's been hard for my mum to pay the bills alone.

I wanted to get a job but she wouldn't let me. I never told anyone about it because I didn't want to be treated differently or have a pity party thrown for me. Although, it was hard coming up with an excuse everytime I needed to go for chemotherapy but now that I haven't gone for chemotherapy lately, I don't have to come up with silly excuses.

Ding! My phone buzzed in the breast pocket of my jacket. I took it out and saw dozens of messages from my friend, Justin.

Hello???

Mali??? We have to go, hurry up.

Are you ignoring me???

If you are, that's not nice. :(

Mali??? You there???

I grinned at the string of messages from Justin. He's the best friend anybody could ever ask for and thankfully, we've been friends for years. He was my neighbor until his dad made this major deal with some electronics company and immediately, they relocated to the "fine" side of the city.

It was his dad that informed my mum about the scholarship examination in Saint Paul's High School. But his mum practically hates us, so she cut off communication with us. According to her, it was something we did some years ago. I don't know what though.

When I got to High School, I felt out of place but having Justin as a friend made it easy to fit in. He was always ready to lend a helping hand, although he was quite older than me, we were still good friends. But there was one thing I always cringed about; it was the fact that he was friends with Kendall.

Other than that, he's pretty sweet and my family loves him. He helps cut expenses by taking me to school and back home.

I replied, Hold on!!! I'll be there soon.

I put my phone in my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I kicked away the balloons and glared at any staring eyes as I walked forward. I stopped in my steps when I suddenly felt dizzy as my head stung in pain. I stood still in the middle of the hallway, trying to fight with the pain as students gingerly walked around me.

I whizzed in pain as it intensified and my teeth chattered a bit but soon, stopped. I gritted my teeth as my head continued to sting. I shook my head slightly and strode out of school. Bad headache, I called it. If only I knew...

I spotted Justin near his car and my lips tugged upward. I hesitated a bit as I felt dizzy again. I held my head with my hands as the pain worsened. Despite my now blurry vision, I could see Justin waving at me. Could he not see me? I thought to myself and stumbled back as the pain became unbearable.

What was happening?

My head spun as I managed to make out the jogging figure of Justin. As I stumbled back again, my bag fell off my shoulder. I bent over with my head still in my hands and started yanking my hair. It felt as though I had to pull off my braids for the pain to stop.

"Mali! What's going on?!" Was the last thing I heard before my teeth chattered as I fell hopelessly into strong arms. My eyes rolled backwards before I fell into oblivion.

***

I woke up to the beeping sound of the heart monitor beside me. I touched my wrist and felt needles in my skin. I looked around me and saw my mum talking to a doctor. She had tears in her eyes as the doctor told her something I couldn't make sense of.

"Mum," I managed to say, still weak and tired from what happened earlier. My mum and the doctor turned their attention to me. I struggled to sit up and my mum walked forward and helped me out. The doctor walked forward too with a clipboard in his hands and gave a small smile.

I glanced at my mum and was shocked to see how much tears were streaming down her cheeks. She inhaled sharply and when she noticed me staring, she wiped away her tears hastily.

"What happened to me? Why am I here?—" I looked at the doctor's name tag and continued, "Doctor Steve."

"Well, you had a minor seizure but thankfully, your friend called the ambulance on time. But don't worry, you'll be alright." Doctor Steve said.

I furrowed my eyebrows, "seizure?"

He sighed and said, "Yes, you had a minor seizure and like I said, you'll be–"

"–But why? How?" I interrupted him, somewhat unconsciously.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat, "it's the Lymphoma. It's...getting worse but not to worry, you'll be alright."

I narrowed my eyes at him but my heart stopped as he said the Lymphoma was getting worse. Panic was evident on my face and he smiled, "don't worry, you'll be fine."

Why does he keep saying that? I thought to myself but the worst of all, was his expression. It said otherwise and that immediately sent shivers down my spine. Doctor Steve wrote something on his clipboard before muttering, "I'll be back." And leaving the room.

My mum squeezed my hand and said, "you heard the doctor, you'll be fine." She looked all teary and was constantly wiping her eyes with that back of her palm.

My mum never cried like this, she was the strongest woman I know. The only time she ever cried this much was when I was diagnosed of Lymphoma. Even dad leaving us didn't make her upset or cry; I can remember her telling us my brother and I that we had to move on from dad. And indeed, we moved on. We practically stopped talking about him.

"Mum, it's worse than the doctor's saying, right?" I asked as she drew imaginary circles on my wrist.

She gave me a small smile and said, "Don't worry, it's nothing."

"Nothing?" I paused for a second and continued, "nothing would never make you cry this much. What's going on?"

She sighed and opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it almost immediately. She began pacing around my bedside but soon after, she stopped and said, "I need you to have an open mind about this."

I nodded, unsure of what to say. She pulled a chair beside my bed and sat down as she shifted her weight on the chair. "Malia, the doctor said something really bad." She took in a deep breath and said, "as he just said, the Lymphoma is getting worse but that's...not all."

"What do you mean?"

"He said something about the cancer cells being everywhere. Sorry, I wasn't paying much attention." She said and I could feel my heart race. This was obviously bad.

I took a breather and said, "can't we try surgery?"

She closed her eyes obviously trying to stop the tears from spilling out. "Yes but the doctor said that there isn't a guarantee of survival and even if you did do the surgery, the cancer cells could reappear again." If my mum was telling this to someone else, I would have corrected on using the terms, "reappear." But right now, the words left my mouth and I felt my chest tighten.

I could feel my eyes water as she sobbed quietly to herself. This was way bad that I hoped it was, even if we considered surgery, my mum might not be able to afford it. She doesn't have health insurance.

"So, what else...did she say?"

She opened her mouth to speak but no words was spoken as tears streamed down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands as whimpers escaped her mouth. 

My heart tightened even more as I realised that whatever she wanted to say was certainly horrible. I stretched out to her but could only reach her knee. I patted it severally and whispered soothing words.

"Mum, please don't cry." I pleaded with her as I couldn't stand her crying. "If it's because of the bills, we'll find a way." I reassured her but deep down, I had no idea how we would do that.

She finally looked up and said, "it isn't about the bills. The doctor doesn't guarantee the safety of the surgery and if isn't done, you'll..." She trailed off and she just stared into space. 

I scooted near her and gently shook her by the shoulders. She blinked back to reality and I said, "mum, I'll what? You can't hide anything from me. I'm entitled to know." But she said nothing. "Mum! You promised not to hide anything from me."

She stared back at me with a saddened expression before saying, "Malia, I don't want to lose you."

"Mum, you won't." I said but I suddenly had this feeling that maybe that might not be true.

She inhaled deeply, "you won't live for more than a year."

"You won't live for more than a year" kept ringing in my ears within the two minutes of silence we shared. My heart tightened and I had to gasp for air. I felt choked and without air. I was going to die; I knew this would happen soon but now, I wasn't prepared for it.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as my mum continued to stare into space. I just sat there on the hospital bed, almost paralyzed. I couldn't move, this was too much for me to bear.

I remembered all the plans I had for my life, it felt like debris after what my mum said. My plans for my life were  to finish high school, go to a prestigious college and have a degree in Economics. I would be an Economic analyst, have a huge house and settle down with my own family. I always wanted to travel all around the  world with my mum and brother but now...they all seemed farfetched.

If I had the surgery, I may not even survive and even if I did, the cancer cells would not be 100% gone and then, I'll still die.