365 Days to Love

In a world where everything must come to an end, I never expected that my end would be coming so soon. I tried so hard to concentrate on what the doctor was saying, but the only thing that stuck was I only had a year to live. Well, if I went through chemotherapy and other endless cancer treatments.

I can’t believe this is how everything was going to end. I was going to die a very boring person, an overly protected daughter of rich lawyers. I was going to die, and not even my crazy rich Asian dad could save me. I didn’t get the chance to live like a normal human. I closed my eyes and let the darkness consume me.

Earlier today, I sat on my bed, preparing for my first physical day at my dad’s law firm. I used to stay home and talk to potential clients, but today I get to go to the firm like a normal lawyer. I am so excited but a little sad. I have spent 22 years on earth pleasing and walking in my parent’s footsteps, and here I am doing it again.

“Mei Xing,” my mom yelled.

“Mom,” I yelled back.

I sighed at my reflection staring back at me and groaned. I held my chest tightly. There was an unusual pain traveling through me. An overwhelming burning sensation; chills ran down my spine. What was going on? I tried to focus on my reflection, but it was a lot harder to do.

Everything was getting blurry, and I could barely focus on anything. I grabbed my make-up desk to stop myself from falling, but that didn’t work. My legs could barely carry my weight, and the only thing I remember was a blurry vision of my panicking mom who was yelling at dad.

“Mei Xing,” I heard a familiar voice calling, but my eyelids were a little too heavy for me to open. I gave up and drifted into a void.

I opened my eyes, and I realized I was in an oddly bright room. I closed my eyes and opened them slowly to adapt to the lighting of the room. There was no one in the room but me. It was definitely not my bedroom.

I raised my right hand and saw wires connected to it. I didn’t feel any pain earlier, but now, staring at the things attached to my hand, I could feel it. I was not in my room, and my clothes had been changed from my normal boring black pencil knee-length skirt and white dress shirt to a hospital gown. My mind wandered. Was I in a hospital?

I looked around and observed my environment. I was in a hospital, and I started panicking. A nurse rushed into the room, and I don’t know what she did, but I fell asleep. A while later, faint voices of people woke me up from my sleep. I could barely see them, but I could recognize my parents’ voices. Was I dying?

“Mom, am I dying?” I whispered to my mom.

“Mei Xing,” she called out, her voice croaking.

Was she crying? Was I going to die? My eyes shot open, and I stared at mom and dad. Mom looked pale, like she had seen a ghost, while dad just stood there with his worried face. He only had that look when he couldn’t solve an issue. Was I in something he couldn’t fix?

I finally recognized where I was. I was in the hospital, and they had managed to change my clothes into a hospital gown.

“You are awake,” Mom commented, smiling at me. She moved to the bed and sat down beside me. She stroked my face gently while trying to hold back her tears.

”What’s going on? Why am I in the hospital?” I asked but got no answers. “I think I deserve to know what is going on here,” I said.

“There is no need to worry. I and your mom are handling the situation,” Dad said quickly. The creases forming on his head gave him away. He was lying. Mr. Lin, my dad, never lied, but here he stood lying.

“At a moment like this, I really should not be treated like a child. I can handle whatever,” I said.

My parents looked away and didn’t answer the question. “For once, let me be aware of the situations in my life,” I yelled.

My parents looked at me shocked. I covered my mouth, but the damage had already been done. I never yelled. I took all the control over the years and just let it slide, thinking I would get my freedom. But today, I just had enough.

“You have cancer. A tumor is growing close to your brain. It has gotten really big,” Dad said.

‘And?’ I thought, but I guess that was all I was getting from my dad. I looked at mom. She was crying so much. We might actually be sharing the pain.

“MOM,” I called out to my mom. She looked at me with her teary eyes. Tears slowly slid down my face as it hit me. I had cancer.

“It can be treated, right?” I asked mom hopefully.

She looked away again. “You have stage three brain cancer. Medications and chemotherapy can help soothe the pain,” Mom replied to my hope.

Maybe I should have told my parents every time I had a headache. Maybe I would have been treated earlier and would never have been in this situation. But I was so stubborn and wanted to be my own person, not an overprotected daughter of a billionaire. But now, maybes and regrets flood my thoughts.

The tears flowed freely, and the realization that I was going to die soon after living a very boring life was more painful than the thought of merely dying. I hid behind my parent’s protection and blamed dad for controlling my life. Maybe I should have fought. It was a little too late, but it was finally time to control my life.

“How many years do I have left?” I asked mom.

“With the help of the medications and chemotherapy, you can live for a very long time,” she soothed.

If it were as easy as she was saying, she wouldn’t be crying, and dad wouldn’t have the out-of-control look. Taking a deep breath, I made an announcement.

“I…”