Dear Friend
Lyn-z and Gerard took home after our conversation in the hospital. They are at second step, both of them. Gerard told me, I was always welcome at their house, and they wanted me to come over more. I told him, I already saw them as my family. Lyn-z told me about Bandit staying at Frank’s house for the night, and I should meet him and the others of their friends and family. Of course I told them yes, I love them, and their friends are probably as nice as them. Hopefully.
Joey and Daniel, on the other hand, didn’t understand it. They talk, like they are going to lose me tomorrow or something. I hate it.
Tyler is trying to make them calm down, when they think I can’t hear them. It’s almost every night. It feels worse, than the actual cancer. But I can’t do anything about it. They won’t listen. The weird part of this is that they are going on a vacation to Spain, in fuckin’ Europe! Without me. I guess they just need some time to swallow this whole situation. Understandable. It’s just a weird reaction, in my opinion: they leave me, because they are afraid to lose me. Yup, call it “dealing.”
I’m staying at Shane’s house with the Canadian boy. I haven’t met him yet. I arrived to Shane’s house today, as the boys are travelling to Spain – my ass. I am allowed of both Lyn-z and Joey to go visit them, when I need a break from the guys, and just want my girl-space-friend.
Trevor… who’s also living at Shane’s house. Haven’t texted me or ANYTHING, since I admitted me having cancer. Shane told me, he’s mad and scared. He told me, Trevor is crying in his sleep every night, because he’s afraid. But he can’t reach him. Trevor just doesn’t want to talk. He thinks he can save himself. He’s just one of those people.
“Hey, what are you doing?” a voice suddenly asks. He has a weird accent, but who am I to judge? I turn my computer off and turn to the voice. A guy, Shane’s age stands in the doorframe watching me. He’s wearing a green t-shirt and black skinny jeans. He has three piercings in his face, black and green hair and a shaved face. He doesn’t look amused. Actually, he looks irritated. “I said: what are you doing?” he asks sharp. Rude. Like Trevor said. “I was writing. That’s a thing I do.” I explain calmed. He gives me a nod and sit down on the couch next to me. We are in Shane’s living room. That man has everything. Both an Xbox and a PlayStation. Who the hell wants an Xbox?
“Can I see?” he asks pointing at my computer in my lap. I think about the things I’ve written down. I shake my head repeatedly. “No. No, I’m sorry, but this is private.” I decline. He nods again. He looks at the watch, on the wall, it’s 12pm, and then back at me. “Why aren’t you in school like Trevor? Are you stupid or something?” he scoffs at me. Ouch. I don’t say anything. Why is he like this? Mean. “Or why don’t you have a job like Shane? Are you “physically challenged?” he asks making fun of it. I don’t like this guy. I look down avoiding eye contact. I feel my breathing get harder. Please Shane, please come home. He went to the grocery store half an hour ago, it can’t take this long. “Please, stop.” I say hoarse still avoiding eye contact. “Why? Are you going to call your mommy?” Shane walks in after the Canadian told me that. I rise up from the sofa, taking my computer, pulling my hood further down my face, so they won’t see me cry. “I’ll be upstairs.” I say quiet, as I walk past Shane. He looks worried at me. “But…” I walk up the stairs and head into Trevor’s room, me and him are sharing now. Or, well, he ignores me, but I am still there.
I decide to text Lyn-z, I have to get this bad energy out:
Hi. So this Canadian guy. Yeah, I don’t like him. – Lou
After a short amount of time, I get a text back:
Hey sweetie. Why? What did he do? – Lyn-z
I groan as I kick the trash can beside the desk in Trevor’s room. I sit down in the corner of the room and start crying. No, I am not okay.
Apparently, he only exist to piss off cancer-patients, guessing why they are not in school or at work as anybody else, and why I don’t call my parents about it. Thank you, God, for giving me a roommate like him. It couldn’t be better! Welcome to Sarcasm Inc. What can I do for you? – Lou
Should I send Gerard to punch his jaw to the moon? No, really. He’s a jerk. Do not listen to him Lou, you are so much more! Do you want to come over here for a while? – Lyn-z
Nah, I’ll be okay. I just had to get it out. Thank you so much, Lyn-z <3 – Lou
Always there ;) – Lyn-z
I hear a knock on the door and the twin walks in. He sees me sitting in the corner, drying my eyes. Without hesitation, he sits down next to me, and holds me tight. “I’m sorry, Lou, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. I don’t want to lose you.” I snuggle further in to my twin, accepting his apology. “I don’t like Shane’s Canadian.” I say with a tiny voice. “Ha! You made him sound like a pet!” he laughs along with me. He looks down at me. “His name is Matt.” Matt. Matt what? He stands up and gives me a hand, to help me to my feet. I accept and he pulls me up. I place the trash can right again from my little rage attack on it earlier. “Don’t ask.” I say as Trevor looks suspicious at me. He nods and follows me downstairs. Shane and the Canadian, I mean, Matt is talking about a game. They have absolutely nothing in common. Other than being extremely rude. However, Shane is okay to me now. We are great friends now. Matt is just rude, and doesn’t have any interest in being friends with me or Trevor. He’s just a grumpy guy.
They turn to face us as Trevor opens the fridge. “I’m making a sandwich, you want anything, Lou?” he grabs the food and start dishing up to himself. “No thanks.” I decline looking at my feet. I turn around to Trevor. He’s watching something behind me. Probably the two older boys playing their stupid video game. “Have you taken your medication for this evening, Lou?” Shane asks and I turn around again scratching my nose. Matt looks disgusted at me, mouthing ‘retard’ to me. Shane jumps up from the couch and reaches me. He looks serious. He has actually taken some responsibility in this situation. “I haven’t done it yet.” I sigh and look at Matt, who’s grinning for himself. I don’t like that man. “What is your problem, dude?” I yell at Matt and walk over to him. Keep calm. I think to myself, as my breathing gets harder. He just keep grinning to himself. “Nothing, I just find you amusing.” He looks back at the screen. I groan in frustration and walk back to my and Trevor’s room. I take the medicine with me and head the bathroom. Trevor follows me. “Lou, wait up.” he says and rushes with me. “You shouldn’t get that mad. You know, what it does to your breath.” He points out. I give him a “duh.” Look. “You can hear it, Louisa. Please just, try not to get mad, it’s for your own good. Your rage just takes a lot of your energy. And it doesn’t exactly help compared to your breathing issues.” He explains me. I swallow my pills and take the floating medicine. “I’m trying. But that asshole downstairs, just won’t stop!” I yell, feeling it again. I cough. Trevor looks scared. I calm down, realizing what I am doing isn’t exactly good, if I want to keep living. “I’m sorry.” He hugs me and we leave the bathroom and head into our room.
“Hold this!” Trevor exclaims as we sit on Shane’s house’s roof. Trevor is smoking. Cancer sticks, don’t worry. I hold it, while he bottoms down his bag from school. We sit in two plastic chairs. It’s almost sunset. Books, pencils and shit floats out of his bag. “Here.” he says and hands me a paper and a pencil. I look at the clean paper and the new sharpened pencil. “Joey said you like to write, now, write me something.” He demands, but not in an angry way. In a nice excited way. I grin at him, smiling bright. Joey has seen me write. Huh… “What do you want me to write?” I ask smiling bright. He turn to me, facing me. He pulls his sunglasses off and puts them on me. Removing my hair out of my sight. He smiles at me, adoring me. “Oh, Lou. No one should tell you what to do.” He says calming. He giggles for himself, as if he is amused by me. “Nobody shall ever tell you what to write. You are talented, you know exactly how you want it to be. You shouldn’t let anybody decide for you. Cause you have the power. I mean, who’s holding the pencil?” he smirks at me. “It’s your story, not mine.” he leans back closing his eyes. “Now tell me your story.”

Notes