He's Still my Son

He's Still my Son

By Chyna Rose

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. I can't even say I own this fic cause it went in off on its own. I wanted it to be about a attempted suicide, but no. It just had to be about cancer. And yes, this is a Taito, although I don't come right out and say it. Nothing graphic at any rate. My muse is strange.

Do you think it's true?

I've seen him.

Such a waste. He was always a good boy.

Why do you speak of what you don't know? Can't you see me standing right here, behind you? I don't go out much. Just home, the editor, and the hospital really. But when I do, people like you are always there.

That's what you get for living a life of sin like that.

But he's so young.

What a shame.

You're like vultures. Ugly pests who feed off death. You jump at whatever bones of gossip are thrown to you, regardless of the truth. I bet if someone told you an outright lie, you'd believe it even if the truth was right in front of you dancing the Macarena.

…rushed to the hospital…

He got what was coming to him,

His family must be devastated.

You don't know anything that I'm going through. What he's going through. It's killing him. It's robbing him of everything he prides himself on. His hair, his voice. His strength. You don't have to watch him- who was always independent- have to rely on everyone to do even the simplest of things. You don't have to see the pain in his eyes every single time he has to call for help.

I never trusted guys like him.

It must be hard on the family.

I could never make it through something like that if it were my son.

He's not your son. You don't care about him. You don't know him. You weren't there when the doctor pronounced his dire diagnosis. You didn't have to see the look in his lover's face as the chemicals that were supposed to help him, made my son sick. Yes he is gay. I've gotten used to it and I've accepted it. They are very much in love with each other. Yes he was in a band. It worried me- what mother wouldn't worry- but he proved he could handle it. He lived to perform, was one with the stage. But none of this made him sick. He lived a clean life- no drugs, no booze, no casual sex, not even a cigarette. He didn't eat a lot of junk food that most teenagers would eat. I know he isn't perfect. No-one is. But I love him none the less. He's still my son. And I will stand by him- support him- until he dies. I just hope that time is a long way off.