Matthew had been completely familiarized with hospitals by his 16th birthday. He didn't want to. He didn't wish for this like some of the sick kids at his school, it just happened.
Alfred, his twin brother, used to talk to him about why he was there. Making up silly reasons while being young about how he was attacked by pirates or moose. Or things like he fought a magic wizard and had to recover. But as time went on, both boys had to grow up and face reality.
Matthew had Laryngeal cancer. Cancer of the throat. He developed it when he was really young. His father, Arthur, had been supportive of the whole thing. The children already had a rough childhood, so he attempted to make things lighter when his diagnosis was revealed.
Their mother, whose name Arthur had long forgotten had only stayed long enough to bear the twin boys before leaving for good. Before they could remember Francis came into their lives, though, and filled in as a mother figure.
Matthew appreciated everything everyone was doing for him. But he was scared that it was already too late...
Matthew walked through the halls of his local hospital. He didn't want to be there. Just another visit. He made his way down the hall, IV set up next to him as he pulled it along. He wasn't supposed to be up, yet. He still had to rest for a few more hours. His last round of Chemotherapy just finished and he was to rest. But boy did he have to piss.
He walked down the familiar hall as he went in search for a bathroom. It was bright and colorful. Children, battling their own forms of cancer, rode down the hallways on bicycles. He remembered the days he was offered to ride those. He'd always say yes but give the bike to his brother. The entire section that was dedicated to helping kids with cancer was filled with these kids. He didn't mind, it gave a brighter look to the place that was meant to be grim, but sometimes he wished he would be moved to somewhere more serious.
He finally found a bathroom and opened the door. He slipped in quickly as he saw his doctor turn the corner in his direction. Locking the door, he waited until he had passed till he did his business. Finally he was done and moved to wash his hands. His clothes had been lost for a medical gown, but he had enough sense to at least keep his underwear on.
He looked in the mirror as he washed his hands. His wig was slightly out of place. He fixed it and sighed. With the wig, he was Matthew Williams, the man no one knew about. Without it, he was Mattie, the poor boy who had lost having a life to Chemotherapy and cancer. You can either look good and be sick, or get well and lose your hair being forced into a wig in Matthews mind. There was no having both options.
He grabbed the IV stand and made his way down the hall again. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten up... He was getting really out of breath. Alfred bursted out of the room right when he needed him.
"Mattie!" He called out and ran to his brothers side, throwing his non-IV arm over his shoulder. "I got you, Mattie." he reassured him as they made their way to his room.
"S-Sorry, Al..." Matthew panted. "I-I h-had to... Use the bathroom.."
They finally made it back to his room and Matt lied down in his bed again.
"You coulda just woke me up, little bro," Alfred told him, admitting to his nap.
"You... Looked p-peaceful." Matt told him, making any reason to not have woken him up. Al waved it off and moved to another topic.
"Mom and dad'll be here soon," Al told the twin. "They just got off of work and are bringing food with them," He stretched and sat down. "I hope it's burgers."
Matt checked the time. It was 6:32 in the evening. He doubted they'd bother fulfilling his special order of burgers and fries. He lied his head back and closed his eyes. Beginning to remember all the times he had been in this hospital.
When he was diagnosed at the small age of 3. His brother learned to quickly speak and, because the cancer was so big in the small boys throat, he never spoke much.
When he was 6 and tried being a lamb in his catholic schools Christmas play, Al being the main character of Joseph, and he fell over on stage because he couldn't breath. The cells had gotten so big he was taken to the hospital for immediate surgery.
When he was 13 and had stopped talking for a week straight. And not because he wanted to.
And now, he was almost 16 and still living in a hospital. All if those times were just important memories from being here. Visits like this filled the dates between those.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear his parents walk in. His father, or rather his Papa, walked to his side and kneeled down, whispering gently into his ear. "Mon petit, we have arrived."
Matt opened his eyes and rubbed them, making it seem like he was sleeping, and smiled. Arthur smiled at him, too, giving him some attention before turning to Alfred.
"I'm hoping this last round went well?" He asked the boy. Al nodded and explained to him that it fought against his cancer some, but they didn't see the progress they had hoped for.
Despite their talking, Mattie knew what was going to happen. He's had this cancer for too long and new it was going to have either 1 of 2 out comes.
He'd either go mute and live, or he'd never recover and he'd die.
Hi, so I just wanted to make this clear real fast. I do not want to make fun o people with cancer in this story! I have a grandfather who died of cancer, so I don't wish to make fun if it. This story is based off of a headcanon I told to my friend that has stuck with me. So, please review and... Thanks!