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Be nice to me, I have cancer.Be nice to me, I have cancer.
I wince and glance around at everyone around me. A few curious eyes glance at my mother, trying to be surreptitious but the greedy look in their eyes lets me know they want to hear more. I sigh and duck my head a bit, moving closer to my mom and mumbling beneath my breath, Please, dont do this right here, right now; cant it wait until were in the car?
Why should it? she challenges back at me. Be nice to me. I. Have. Cancer. She says it loudly, and more heads turn to stare at me. I blush and look up at my mothers bald head. Wisps of hair try to shine through, but it doesnt do much but make her look like a sad, pitiful lion. The hair is a silky blond color. Her original hair color was black. I wonder how her hair managed to change color, and I wonder if the radiation had anything to do with it, or maybe my mom had just been dying her hair before then without l
Born.There is a world where every life is written down in one, unique book.
No two books are the same; they can be similar, but no two pages are ever perfectly alike. Each book is unique to the person that holds it.
On the day of the creature's birth, they are given this book: their name already written in blocky little letters on the cover. With infantile hands, they push the cover of the book away to expose the first page of the book. Of course the book starts out a simplistic read. Things that this young child will be able to comprehend within moments.
But, as the pages turn, and turn, and turn, the text begins to thicken. The child is growing up while their reading skill rises. Eventually this book no longer bares one simple word on an expanse of white, but begins to closely resemble that of an earth-bound novel.
The book tells an intriguing story, of course. It's probably most interesting to the creature it is given to, though seeing as the book is all about their life.
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchin
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More