Dear God,

I went to the doctor today.

He says I have a tumor in my brain.

I guess I'll be joining you soon.

Love,

Peyton

Peyton's P.O.V

After having headaches, horrible, horrible headaches for weeks I decide to go to the doctor. He is a nice man and presribes me an MRI of my head, because maybe there is something wrong with my brain.

It must be minor. They're only headaches.

The MRI tube is scary. They intruct me to lay perfectly still and I do. I watch as the light travels around the tube. It makes me sleepy. I might just go to sleep.

After maybe ten minutes, or at last, it feels that long I want to get out.

Honestly, how long does this take? Must have ametuers working today.

My neck is sore and I want to move to crick it but I can't move so I just grit my teeth and wait it out.

Finally, finally they get me out of there and I take in deep lungfuls of air because damn that tube is claustraphobic.

They guide me to a room where I am allowed to change back into my street clothes and then I wait. I wait for the doctor to come to tell me that I'm fine, that there is nothing wrong with me, that I was just freaking out.

The doctor knocks and enters the room. He smiles at me. "Peyton, how are you doing today?" He asks.

"Fine," I say neutrally. "How did the MRI go?"

"Perfectly," he says. "Well, in case of precedure. Thank you for not moving, by the way. It makes our job much more difficult."

I incline my head. "So what are the results?"

My question hangs in the air as I see him swallow and then fiddle with the papers on his clipboard.

"I'm so sorry," he says finally, meeting my eyes. "But you have brain cancer....."

He keeps talking, no doubt explaining what type I have and the treatment options, but only one word bounces around my head- cancer.

Cancer. Cancer. C A N C E R.

And then another word comes to mind, a synonym with cancer- dying. Dying. I am D Y I N G. Because I have cancer, I am dying. I have C A N C E R so I am doing to D I E.

I guess I am going to meet God sooner th an thought.