Chapter 1: "Cancer" comes along (two years previously)

I paced back and forth across the cold hardwood floor. I was waiting for the garage to open and for him to finally return.

"Aria, sit down. You're going to wear yourself out! Just wait he'll come!" Mom called from the kitchen.

How did she know what I was doing? Ugh, Moms always know.

A muted rumbling sound interrupted my thoughts. It was the garage. I ran and opened the door. There he was.

"Dad!" I shouted, happy and excited that he had returned from his work trip from Germany.

Finally, we could go to that dinner at Olive Garden that Mom had promised.

"When Dad returns from Germany," she had said.

Well, now he was back. It had been almost a month since he went to Germany. I just wanted another presence in the house. Just Mom and me, it was lonely. It wasn't that I wanted to go to Olive Garden (ok, maybe a tad bit), but it was that I wanted to go somewhere. Do something. Have a good time for once. That hadn't happened for a really long time.

I ran up to him and gave him a huge hug. He returned it, though he was reluctant. He didn't smile at me. It was more as if he barely acknowledged that I was there.

"Jacob?" my mother's voice came from the kitchen.

He didn't even turn his head in the direction of Mom's voice.

Mom walked out of the kitchen.

"Finally, you're back!" she cried in delight.

Dad finally turned and looked at her, but his expression stunned me: hatred.

"We need to talk," he snarled. "Now. In private."

Mom's grin faded along with mine. I stared, looking back and forth from Mom to Dad and back, unsure of what was happening.

"Jacob..." Mom trailed off uncertainly.

I told you, Lidia! Right now means RIGHT NOW!"

I didn't understand. Dad never raised his voice, let alone yell at Mom. Something was wrong.

"Um, Aria, sweetie? Go ahead to your room. Play video games, or whatever. Just hang out until Dad tells me what he wants to tell me, okay?" Mom was pale.

"Um ok, sure," I said nervously, then turned and ran to the stairs, and up to my bedroom.

***

"Aria Jinev Marzing!"

I looked up from my taco miserably and looked at my mom and winced. Her face was red and she was angry. There was only one person I knew who used my full name: Mom. She was also the only other person in the house. It was just the two of us. My middle name reminded me of my dad, which was exactly what made me more depressed than I already am.

I was a terrible student. Well, at least ever since I started 6th grade. Before that, I was practically an angel. But recently my grades have been slipping. Who knows why? Because I kept losing focus in all of my classes. At least, that's what all of my teachers told Mom during parent-teacher conferences.

Mom was standing across from me, red-faced, a paper packet clenched tightly in her hand. She looked like what I'd expect a volcano's expression to be before it erupts - one last try to stop the explosion. A closer look at the packet told me that it was my ELA assessment I had received back today to see my grade. There was a large red F on the test, which wasn't exactly my first one.

I gulped in fear, knowing what was going to come next.

"Another F?" she snapped. "Have you become like the people in your grade that I detest? Neglecting everything except your phone? In elementary school, you were a perfect straight A student. Now, in middle school, your highest grade is a D!"

I hung my head in shame. I didn't know what was happening to me. I didn't feel like doing anything anymore. My friends abandoned me because I was boring and I rarely smiled anymore. They said they didn't want a "depressing" friend and that I should go find another group of negative people to hang out with. This was how it went.

Lanie Williams, and Maria Hovaya (who always copied Lanie), laughed at the hilarious joke that Genevieve Hizzleton, or Gen, had made. I also found it funny, but for some reason, I just didn't feel like laughing. But, I also didn't want Gen to feel bad.

"Haha, that's suuuper funny," I said without emotion.

The three of them stared at me. Genevieve looked stricken and angry, but she also looked hurt.

Then I realized what I had done. From her point of view, it must have looked like I hadn't thought that the joke was funny, and I had sarcastically laughed.

"Gen, I--I" I managed to croak before Genevieve's sharp voice cut me off.

"If you didn't think my joke was funny, then keep your negative comments and thoughts to yourself." she snapped. "You don't laugh at my jokes anymore. If you really want to know, I've been making these jokes to try to cheer you up. But if you want to laugh at me, and not my jokes, then do it somewhere WHERE I CAN'T SEE YOU!" she screamed the last few words as tears started streaming down her face. She then turned around and ran in the direction of the restroom.

As if that wasn't enough, Lanie also turned on me.

"She's right. If you want to make fun of her, then you're also insulting our sense of humor. Gen's our friend. Don't be our friend if you want to laugh at us!"

She turned and ran after Gen.

Maria gave me a sympathetic look, but then she also ran after the two of them. I was stunned and hurt, but I knew that I had made a huge mistake.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry, Mom," I stammered. "I don't know what's happening to me. I just don't feel that well."

Her expression softened, but then it became concerned. She knew something was wrong.

My mother didn't know anything about the issues in class. Mom listened the entire time, her expression getting worse and worse with every word I said.

After I finished, Mom was silent for a while. I thought she was just going to say that it was all in my head, but she didn't. She was so quiet that I could hear the chirping of our two pet birds, Mimi and Fluff. Normally, I couldn't hear them because their peeping was faint and weak. I was so immersed and amazed by their rarely heard musical sounds that I jumped when Mom spoke.

"Dad died from cancer two years ago," Mom hesitated. I nodded, startled, but waiting for her to go on. I wanted to hear what she had to say. She took a deep breath and continued.

"Do you remember how he was before he was hospitalized?"

I nodded sadly. Dad had become so quiet, I had hated it. The last time I saw him smiling was a month before he was hospitalized. I remember the day he became sick as if it had only been yesterday.

"Dad!" I shouted, happy and excited that he had returned from his work trip to Germany.

Finally, we could go to that dinner at Olive Garden that Mom had promised

"When Dad returns from Germany," she had said.

Well, now he was back. It had been almost a month since he went to Germany.

I ran up to him and gave him a huge hug. He returned it, though he was reluctant. He didn't smile at me. It was more as if he barely acknowledged that I was there.

"Jacob?" my mother's voice came from the kitchen.

He didn't even turn his head in the direction of Mom's voice. Then all of a sudden, he ran into the living room and fainted, collapsing on the leather couch.

"Dad!" I screamed.

Mom came and shrieked when she saw what had happened to Dad. She dialed 911, and within minutes an ambulance arrived. I was screaming and crying the whole time. Why out of all the people it could happen to, why would it happen to Dad?

I clutched my dad's hand the entire time, and he was muttering something over and over again. I think he was talking to me.

He was taken to the hospital and was diagnosed with a brain tumor. One month after he was diagnosed, he died suddenly. Maybe he had lost the will to live, I might never know.

That day when he died before we got the news, Mom and I were walking to the bus stop, when the phone rang. Mom picked it up, and after a moment, she screamed, dropped the phone, and collapsed onto the soft grass. She buried her face in her palms, but the other kids and I could hear her sobs.

I knew the second that she screamed I knew Dad was gone. I ran to her side, and we cried together. The other kids asked me what had happened, and I told them. They were stunned, but they called their parents, who were my mom's friends, and they came. The kids and I got on the bus, but I only went because Mom insisted. She called the teachers to let them know why I might be losing focus in class. That day had been the worst one of my life. And it only got worse after that

"But what does Dad's cancer have anything to do with me?" I asked, genuinely confused.

Then it hit me. How could I have been so stupid? As I was about to speak, Mom cut in, so quiet that I just managed to catch her words.

"Aria, I--I think you might have the same symptoms... as Dad."

My heart seemed to stop, and my blood seemed to turn cold. Even though she hadn't said it directly, I understood what she meant. It was very likely that I had cancer.