I stared at the pile of books that I threw away from the window. I settled down on a black velvet-clothed couch. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down my anger. I can’t do this. I’m not capable of doing this.

I knew that I hated my life and it was tough but I couldn’t complain because that was all I had back then—some breaths. I was familiar with the thought that sooner or later, there will be my dead body and a coffin—that was all.

I walked barefooted on my vomit and called my mom,

“Mom!”

She rushed inside the living room, almost scared to death. She tried to calm me down as soon as she noticed the vomit,

“It’s ok, Rose. Everything’s fine. You’re fine. Don’t worry.”

 I tried my best to let the anger, frustration and pain go but it didn’t work. I was more hyper—I shouted hysterically,

“Mom! Mom! My head! “

And as always, the pain slowly slipped away the minute my mother gave me an injection.

My mom, well, she had always been proud of me. She didn’t care about my short temper, vomiting, headaches and all the sickness that had been added up with my soul due my illness. She knew that I was a brave teenager. She believed that I was special—a part of something big. Mostly on special occasions, we both would sit together, watching the sky and we talked about how I had always been her favorite child. How she was surprised that I took so brave decisions. How she wondered, if we had gotten a better time to spend with each other—the one with me being healthy. And in the end, she’d always hold my hand and tell me,

 “I know that one day I’ll be really proud of you—even more than I am right now.” But I knew that was only the encouragements to make me feel better and nothing more.      

I wheeled out to the wooden patio of our seaside cottage. Mom sometimes allowed me to take a ride on my wheelchair on my own but no more farther than the patio. I shifted my body to a comfortable chair and stared at the stars that smiled at me. The sea, the wind, it always did the magic—my pains, nervousness, it all went away for a while. I wanted people to know how it feels to know that you’re dying. How slowly the cancer gets you and without even knowing how bad the condition will go, it lets you live some more days—and you just die every day, deeper and deeper, to unknown intensity. It almost feels as if it throws you off the roof and if somehow you’re still alive, it repeats the same action until you both are tired of playing the game.        

Sharp sun-rays peeked through the small gaps in the curtains. I woke up and quietly wheeled outside, leaving my mother to sleep behind. Relaxing in my dorm chair, I felt the soothingly different air that made my breathing better.

I watched as two little children, a boy and a girl came running towards me. Out of breath, the boy asked gazing the ball near my chair,

“If you’re not playing with this ball, can we have it? We’ve lost ours while playing near the sea. Our parents thought maybe you won’t mind lending it for some minutes.”

I smiled at his innocence and answered,

“Well—let me think? What if I say no?” I didn't know why i was teasing him.

The little boy—disappointedly looked at me. I thought he was going to cry, so I quickly said,

“I’m just kidding. You can take it. I don’t play with it anymore.”

I handed him the ball and added,

“It’s yours now.”

He looked astonished,

“Forever?”

I giggled,

“Yeah. But you have to do me a favor.”

He nodded with a little smile. I asked him to bring me a black box from inside. I opened it and picked two big chocolate bars. Handing each to both of them, I said,

“There you go. They are real yummy ones, my favorites.”

The little boy jumped his head forwards to look inside the box. He took the chocolate from his sister’s hand and put them back on the table. He said,

“The box is empty now. We can't take these.”

“Ohhh—it’s okay. Besides, my mom gets really angry when I eat chocolates."
I looked towards their mother who kept looking this way. I said,
"Your mom must be waiting for you, isn't she?”

Both of them gave me a slight hug and ran to their parents. Even though the hug was a little painful but after years, it was the first hug from someone other than my mom.

Watching them laughing and playing with their parents was a beautiful sight. A family is a group of people that lives together and share the strength to hold up against the evils. Even if one falls, there are others to keep you from falling. Every one of them has a reason to be in other’s life—a good reason. Whatever life shows them—they bravely not only face it but admit it as a challenge. And that’s what God needs, strength. Far more important than strength there comes; Believe. To have faith in God, what He does is good, what he shows is for you to be good and what you think is awful, is way too beautiful in reality.

As I heard some weak shouts from inside, I hurriedly shifted between my chairs and moved inside. Finding me alive, Mom ran from the corner of the room and hugged me tight. She was heavily crying. I groaned,

“It’s hurting. Mom!”

She quickly moved back and sat on her knees. Shaking her head left to right, she tried to stop crying. I opened my mouth to say something but she didn’t let me,

“What are you doing out here? You almost killed me. I thought—“

She stopped. I continued her words,

“You thought I was lying dead somewhere? Face it mom. This day will come. Soon enough, I am going to be dead. I am going to leave you alone in all this mess. You’ll have to do it all by yourself—my funeral, closing my eyes and feeling ridiculous when I take my last breaths. You can’t save me mom. You can’t do anything about it. You’re not God. All you can do is crying and feel bad for me.”

What have I just said?

I gently put a hand on hers, trying to take my words back,

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just—I’m sick of this feeling-bad kind of conversations. If we can’t do anything about it, then we shouldn’t discuss it either.”

She wiped away her tears and said,

“No. I should say sorry. You’re right. We should not discuss it.” She paused for a second and continued while standing on her feet, “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

“Okay.”

Before she could go inside the kitchen I asked her,

“Mom, I met two children today. They were playing with their parents near the shore. I thought you said this part of island was private?”

She was confused,

“Yeah. It is a private area. You must have mistaken, dear.”

“No I didn’t.”

This time she was worried, but she tried act normal,

“Rose, maybe it’s your tumor. You know?”

I was not satisfied by her answer and I knew it wasn’t my tumor this time, but I didn’t want to argue, so I just gave a slight nod.

 I remember those days in hospital—such bad days they were. My brain tumor was new to me and so was the hospital. After the operation, I went to a coma but thanks to God Almighty, I came back to life after a month. It was weird at first to know that I had been away for a whole month but then things settled a bit. My pain, headaches and vomits were a bit controlled. Doctor’s thought that my brain tumor was recovered but it certainly wasn’t. I started to imagine things—I talked to people that weren’t present there.  I used to get irritated by almost everything—even though I did nothing but lay down on the bed but there was extreme weariness. There were more and more treatments, more money spent on me and more death, hidden in the form of pain that daily visited me. I and Mom were ready to say good-bye to each other but who knows what God wanted. He saved me once again. The doctors tried their best and I was back—healthier than before. There were still vomits and headaches—not severe though. My mom being a doctor herself, managed to take good care of me. Everything seemed normal but ten months after my operation and treatments, I had a severe stroke that resulted to me being unable to walk. All the previous improvements were gone. And this time with the stroke, my life was no more in hands of doctors. They gave up on me and told my Mom that there was no way to save me. We both silently cried for days, knowing that it was really going to end this time. But Mom wanted to make my days memorable, peaceful. So she rented a sea-side cottage to live in.

Mom stared at me while I sat on the dorm chair. She dragged her chair close to me and asked,

“Do you feel it's coming?”

She looked broken. Pieces of her wanted to cry but she held herself up to take in my answer. I knew that I should tell her. So I truthfully answered,

“Yes. But I don’t know when or how. I know nothing!”

She swiftly stood up, ran down the three steps and stopped so far away from me that I couldn’t hear her screams. I saw her crying and screaming for minutes. When she came back, she apologized,

“I’m sorry for being so weak, Rose. I wish I had strength like you. I wish I wouldn’t cry in front of you. I wish things were easier.”

She gently placed her head on my lap and we both cried for moments. She sat up and looking in my eyes, she wanted sincerity,

“Rose, I know we agreed on not talking about it, but dear, it’s time. Now I want answers. I want confusions to end. You said it will make things less complex but it didn’t—we both know. Now please, Rose, tell me—don’t you want them back? Don’t you miss them?”

She wanted pure answers but I didn’t want to explain. What will I tell her? I did it for her? So now she would feel guilty about it? I knew I couldn’t, so I changed the topic,

“The weather’s so clear today. Don’t you wish we could just sit like normal mother-daughter and laugh and discuss things that normal people do?”

She had a hint of anger in her voice,

“No, Rose! Not today. We have to clear everything up today—our unspoken words, feelings that were lost somewhere during the whole treatment time. After we came here, a month ago, I thought of talking about this but figuring you’d get hurt, I kept silent. However, now I think not asking this may hurt you more.”

She had looked at me with a hope you barely find in people these days—she was hungry for answers. I never imagined she had loved me so much. I finally answered,

“How could I miss him? I remember the day he had beaten you up and kicked you out of our home. I remember the blood drooling out of your mouth, the wound on your neck—the blood stains on your shirt. Mom, do you expect me to forgive him? And how can I miss my brothers and sister? They chose a brutal man over a sweet mother. That’s the reason I didn’t want you to tell dad about my cancer. I don’t want any one of them to do a favor or have sympathy for me. I don’t belong to anyone but you. You’re my family.”

We both had tears rolling down our cheeks. She held my hands in her hands and said,

 “There’s something you need to know. I think it’s time you’ll understand us—your whole family. Rose, you know, I always feared that if I told you the whole thing, I would lose you. Just like your dad lost you. He was not the only reason of what happened that day. It was both of us. He worked so hard for his business and when you work so hard, you expect things to grow nice but he lost everything—money, hope and strength. I couldn’t understand him then. I couldn’t figure that he was depressed. I should’ve shared his pain but I was silly and I made a mistake. I pressurized him—we fought a lot. But the day he became a brutal man in you eyes, it was I who was responsible of his behavior. I let go all my frustrations and anger on him. He was sick of our fights. He was sick of me—always complaining. And I asked Ted, Jess and Ellie to stay with your dad. I’m sorry, Rose. I’m sorry!”

She turned her face away from me. I was confused. How could she never tell me? My voice broke,

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me before? You’re not lying, are you? You’re trying to defend dad?”

Keeping her head still, she replied,

“You never wanted to talk about this topic. And I was not brave enough before to force you to listen to the truth. But I told you now. A mother can’t let her daughter die without knowing the whole truth. I know it’d be hard, but try to forgive me.”

Feeling weak, I wheeled myself inside. Mom said between her sobs,

“Where are you going, Rose?”

My anger flowed in my words,

“What do you want me to do? Forgive you like this? I left my whole family thinking dad was an animal. But what I didn’t know was that you were just like him—an animal. It’s been 2 years, Mom! I know this whole year was tough but the year before that, why didn’t you tell me then? I trusted you. I thought we shared our secrets. You’ve disappointed me.”

We didn’t speak to each other for hours after our last conversation. I overlooked at my whole life—the time I, Ellie and my twin brothers spent in our house, the way we laughed, played, fought on silly things and loved each other—the times we went on vacations with Mom and Dad—the times when dad would make me smile on my worst days—those two years without them, when I missed them but kept hold of myself, only because I loved my mom more than anyone. Thinking about dad, Jess, Ted and Ellie made me hate my Mom. But thinking of this last year, I wanted to salute my mother. She had spent the whole time so bravely; never crying in front of me when i was really in bad condition. She was a super-mom. After realizing lots of things, I found her lying on the couch, lost in her thoughts. I stopped near her and said,

“You miss them too?”

She turned my way and nodded. I was ready to forgive her,

“I thought about everything—from your point of you and mine too. It was tough at first but then I easily made the decision. I forgive you. Things happen, not so we could act perfect but so they can bring perfection into us. Same happened to us. If this all wasn’t a part of our lives, you and I, we both would have been different. And I’m glad we’re like this.”

She smiled and hugged me. My body ached,

“Mom, it hurts!”

She quickly drew back and apologized.

The next morning, thoughts rolled around my mind. I wanted everything settled just in one day. I feared of my time. Somewhere in mind, I knew I’d die any moment and leave the mess just the way it was. I wanted to clean it up. My mother’s lies were the wounds that were filled up by all the love and care she provided me during my cancer days—all the money and hard-work she did for my treatment. Whatever had happened between my Mom and Dad was past and I had to move on—to the end of my life, to an end of all the lies—lies that I told others and those which others told me. People say things are ‘Complicated’. Well, I believe it’s us who are complicated, not the situations or things. I knew that it was time to pay back. Determined, I dialed a number on my cell. I heard a familiar voice on the other hand,

“Hello?”

It was Ellie—not the 10 year girl last time I met with. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hug her and say that she was the most gorgeous girl I had ever met. I remained silent, not having the courage to speak. There were some mumbling at the other side and then I heard my dad,

“Rosella?”

“How did you know it was me?”

From the sounds I heard, he was defiantly crying. He sighed and said in his shaky voice,

“I’ve been waiting all this time for someone who called but remained silent. And it’s today. After almost two years, my Rosella called me.”

He gasped,

“I’m sorry, dear. I’m so sorry. I have dialed in your number so many times but—you know what, I was stupid, a coward and most of all, never a good father. And what I did to your mother, well I really wish I could erase that day from our lives.”

He really was depressed. I finally chose some quick words,

“What happened was—sad. Yeah! But there’s no good bringing up old scars that we’ve tried so hard to heal. I just need an answer—an honest answer. I know you love me but do you still love Mom?”

Those horrible seconds when he remained silent almost killed me but he replied as soon he was sure about something.  His voice felt as if he found key to a door he had been looking for ages,

“I still love her. I always loved her.”

I smiled,

“And I know that she loves you too because she told me everything that happened.”

I sniffed and continued,

“Now, Dad, I need you all to come to Assateague Island as fast as you can. And if you take Maryland Island’s way then you’ll be here in 5 to 6 hours—“

He cut me off,

“Is everything alright?”

I had to cover up the truth,

“Yeah! But it’s important. I really need you all. I miss you guys. If you love me, just don’t think about anything—get in the car, drive and just be here for me. My friend will be waiting for you near the main cottages.”

I hung up the phone before I could have lost myself. I prayed that my death waits until I see my family.

Mom didn’t know Dad was coming. I wanted to surprise her. She mostly went to pick up the groceries on Wednesday from the market that was half an hour away from the private cottages. Leah—my mother’s friend’s daughter looked me up while she was gone. I had forgotten how to make friends so we just watched movies or T.V shows until my mom was back. But whenever we talked to each other, it always felt good.

It took five minutes but I finally convinced Leah to guide dad to our cottage. She took her mother’s car and hurried off to main cottages.

I was so excited to meet my family but the time seemed to have stopped. For barely ten minutes, I watched the T.V and then I decided to wait outside. My patience was failing. My heart was pounding so fast, I felt if I would die right this moment. I talked to my heart,

“Please stay with me until I see them once. Please don’t leave me at this moment.”

I didn’t know when tears had started falling down my cheeks. It was difficult. Harder than I thought it would have been.

For 45 minutes, I waited for them. I had known that mom and dad would be here anytime soon. Suddenly the weather changed. Dark clouds gathered all over the sky. There were huge collapses between heavy water tides. My heart was gone weaker than ever.

I reckoned that a flood was about to sink us deep into its abdomen. Right then, I saw the kid from the other day. His leg was weirdly stuck in wet sand. I looked everywhere for another existing human being, but there was no one. I finally decided that the last energy left in me could save the child—he could actually run away if I saved him. I knew it was foolish but I tried my best.

I wheeled down the inclined plane. I wanted to fool my tumor. I wanted to laugh at it and say, look! I saved a child and you couldn’t bring me down. My wheelchair got stuck in the sand little distance away from the child. I jumped into the lower waves and forced my whole body forward with my elbows. When I reached the boy my clothes were all wet and I was crying of pain.

Every time I tried to free kid, the water flow stopped me.

I can’t let this child die with me today!

With my shivering hands I finally charged his leg free. Suddenly he stopped crying and looked at me. His eye color changed to water blue. He said,

“You’re different than others and you know it. If you don’t stop this flood, the whole island will be destroyed. Feel the power inside you!”

The boy turned into a pure white beautiful creature and vanished in the air. I closed my eyes and realized that everyone I ever loved was here on this island. My tears came out hot, something was wrong inside me. When I opened my eyes I was glowing blue light; something really powerful was spreading out of me. My brain felt as if someone was crushing it under a rock. While I screamed, the water flow was shielded by the blue shiny light. The water swirled up and down the boundary but couldn’t flow out. When the water calmed down, the glow fainted and with that almost all my breaths were gone.

When I opened my eyes for the last time, I watched my whole family surrounded around me. My twin brothers, Jess and Ted, were not too much identical like they used to be. They were totally frightened by my look. Ellie looked so grown up but she still cried like a baby. Mom and dad held each other’s hand. Mom was shouting something but I couldn’t hear. I hardly managed to say some last words,

“Forgive each other.”

The last thing I saw was everyone crying and Mom hugging dad.

                                                          ----------------------------------------------------

Those 16 years of my life were all I needed. My mom was right. I was special. I’m now a wish for people and an inspiration for thousands. Since the day after my death, I’ve been living a bonus 1 year. I now work with several other girls and boys to help people on earth, while the white fairy men lead us. We are not visible but we are here. I heard from my new friends that my family is now back together. They are just the family I wanted to have. A friend of mine offered to take me to see them but being not so brave to just watch them, I denied.

I’m walking on the wet sand, right where I died a month ago. A part of me is sad but the other one is happy to save so many lives. I feel the cold water running down my feet. I remember how I missed it after my legs got paralyzed.

The best part is, my Mom gave me a nickname; Rose. And now I smell like one.

                                                                                      The End