A/N: It's about time! I've been thinking about this story for a long time now, and I've finally gotten myself to start it. It's not my baby like One Freakish Love, but who says I can only have one child? *This is going to be a full length story, not just a one-shot or two-shot or however many shot you're thinking of. So here it is, you may not understand the title, unless you've seen 'The Big C' on HBO, but it's pretty clever, without further ado.
The Big V
"I do not enjoy your company, I hope you know." he grunted, breaking the thick silence. "You're not exactly a ray of sunshine either."
I had been to this same doctor's office more times than I could count on my hands and feet. My arms were sore and had small remains of red scars from the countless tubes of blood they had taken to test, each vile that had been performed on not having a definite answer, and caused the request of another and another to find out exactly what was wrong with me. Inside I knew what was coming, but on the outside I couldn't bring myself to say it and I pushed the thought out of my mind every time it had tried to pry it's way back in. When I was twelve, that's when the signs started, my skin would bruise so easily that my brother had to treat my like a porcelain doll, or else I would be covered in obnoxious black and blue marks. I cleared my throat, the sterile smell of bleach stinging my nose. I looked over at my mother, I couldn't help but frown when I looked over her face. The wrinkles in her eyes had grown deeper ever since this whole charade had begun, and her normally bright, beautiful face was taken over by a dark shadow. Especially when the doctor came in. He was tall, and thin to the point where his spine was curved and looked as though he was standing hunched over. He smiled weakly as he walked in, scratching his salt and pepper hair a clipboard at his side.
"Kat," he said my name feeling like it was being used as a disease "Mrs. Taylor, how are you today?"
"Fine." I grunted, twiddling with my thumbs.
"Do you have the results?" My mom asked, the desperation in her voice obviously apparent, seeming as though she was searching for anything in the dark, hoping to get a grasp.
"Yes, I do." he answered, flipping through the pages attached to his clipboard.
"Kat, you have cancer."
Cancer. C-a-n-c-e-r. The word played through my mind in every way possible, backwards, loud, soft, spelling out and no matter what I could do it wouldn't stay out. The car ride was terrible, my mom grasped onto the steering wheel, her knuckles white from gripping so hard I saw her throat jerking trying to keep the tears from spilling out. And strangely, I hadn't broken down yet. It was probably just the shock, I searched for tears, I wanted to cry, but I felt like I lost all the ones that I had on reserve. 'You're a pretty girl, Kat. Just make the most of what time you have.' Hah, pretty girl? I was unusually tall and lanky. I wrapped my arms around my legs in the passenger's seat trying to somehow compress myself into a smaller form. My dark hair hung in waves, and made no effort to accentuate my plain, dark, grey eyes. When I walked into the house, it seemed as though everyone in my family already knew from the look on my face. My eyes darted from my Mom, to my Dad, my brother and then finally to my stairs. Here come the tears, they've made their way for the water show. I booked it up the stairs, choking and tripping as I did so, my hands sliding up the banister as I busted into my room landing on my bed. I screamed, and kicked and pulled at my hair as I reached for a pillow and gritted my teeth together as I dug my nails into it, there was a demon inside me that needed to be released and no matter how much I screamed, how hard I kicked it was in there, and so was cancer. I gasped for air, and made my way to my vanity, placing my hands down on the desk for support. I looked at myself in the mirror, my skin was unusually pale, the rivers of tears leaving streaks on my face. My hair was everywhere from where I had pulled in my fit, I sighed which sounded more like a broken shiver and grabbed a comb, ripping through the tangles. Grabbing my black peacoat from hanging off the back of my chair I slipped in on my arms and walked down the street.
"Honey?" My mom called from the living room. I closed my eyes and breathed out once again,
"I'm just going out to get some air, Mom." I responded grabbing onto the door's handle and walked out onto the street. I stared at my feet and watched as my legs and feet crossed one in front of each other on the lamp lit street. How many more steps did I have left in me? I made my way to the small local park by my house which was usually swarming with screaming children, but this late in the evening they were tucked away in bed. I sat down on the bench that looked out on the large field barren of hills and well... everything, and once again pulled one of my knees up to my chest. I was unaware of the presence behind me as the tears flowed once again from my vision.
"Why are you crying?" It wasn't sincere, it sounded almost repulsed. My voice surprised me at how weak it was when I answered.
"I'm sick."
Review, please?