Young Adult / Secrets

If you knew a secret would you tell it? Would you say the words knowing that someone would get hurt? Would you take the joy from someone knowing what you know? Could you speak the secret that would cause them to lose it? That’s what I faced. The lies, the torment, the broken heart… all of that was just waiting to knock on the door and enter, because I knew a little secret.

If I told my parents, my entire world will be shattered. I sat looking, out the window of my tiny room, up at the stars in the sky. I prayed that an answer would just fall into my lap, nothing happened.

It felt rather fitting since no one talked to anyone at school either. Most people found it uncomfortable to talk to me. They couldn’t seem to look me in the eye. All right, so they would have to look down to look me in the eye… still. That wasn’t the point.

Sometimes being in a wheelchair was harder than it looked. Although, if I was completely honest with myself. I liked racing down the halls when no one was watching. Let’s just keep that between you, me, and the lamp post though.

I’m praying it was a mistake… what I know, I mean. I couldn’t even bear to bring myself to say it. It was as if speaking it aloud would be making it fact, instead of some horrible dream I had been living for the past week.

Why did I have to find out? Why did I have to have that appointment? Would it have made a difference if I hadn’t gone to the doctor that day? I couldn’t help wondering.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning. Then maybe, just maybe, I could make some sense out of this entire situation and figure out what I’m supposed to do next.

It started a little before school ended for the day. Mom had to pick me up early because I had a doctor appointment.

When I was born there was a problem with my lower spine, it’s called Spina Bifida. In doctor’s terms, it meant that there was a defect in my spinal cord. It was surgically fixed. Although, during the surgery something went wrong. Since then I had never been able to walk.

Mom and Dad wound up suing the hospital for something called malpractice. They said it was the doctor’s fault that I wasn’t walking now. I say if I was meant to walk, I would. Don’t get me wrong, I have my good days and my bad days. I could have been a lot worse off. So, I tried to look at things in a positive light.

I didn’t sit around feeling sorry for myself. In fact I don’t have time for that. Between school, the doctors and my absolute love of music I was pretty busy. Well, more about that stuff later.

This all started earlier this week, Tuesday to be exact. As I said, I had to go to the doctor. I thought it was pointless, but mom and dad were always so determined. Who was I to argue? They wouldn’t listen anyway. A 13 year old doesn’t have an opinion most adults want to hear, even if we are right.

So, Mom picked me up early from school. We drove to the doctor, went into the office, and waited twice as long as we should have. The office was deserted, so you figure that one out. When we went into the examining room, he wanted to run some blood tests.

I hated needles. No matter how many you got, you were never prepared for that first pick with the needle. It always hurt, and looking away did not help, no matter what those nurses said.

I was used to having blood tests done, checking my white blood cell count and whatever else they were in the mood for. It was a complete waste of time if you ask me, but no one ever did. The tests always came back the same… no better, no worse.

After the appointment was over, Mom decided to take us out for lunch. I wasn’t sure if it was because she just didn’t want to go home, or if she couldn’t face the fact that we were going to have to wait again for the results.

We went into the restaurant. It was this little hole in the wall right near the doctor. The lighting was horrible, and the tables were poorly set up. We had a hard time maneuvering my wheelchair around so that I wasn’t blocking anyone. That would have mattered if anyone had decided to come in.

I finally got a place to sit, near the window. At least they were clean, I was glad for that. If they hadn’t been then I think I would have pushed harder for us to go somewhere else.

The waitress, if you could call her that, came over to us. Her hair was stringy and washed out. Her face looked drawn and tired. She had pretty eyes though. They had this way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even if you felt like everything was going wrong.

I ordered my usual salad. I did have to watch my girlish figure, even if I was only 13. Mom ordered something that, I believed, was supposed to a version of a Club Sandwich. We waited for our food and talked quietly.

Mom was trying to avoid anything dealing with what happened at the doctors. It was something I’m used to, especially now. She just had a hard time dealing with reality. If there is one person who hated bad news, it would be my Mom. She refused to watch the news because it “depresses me,” she always said.

We sat there talking about anything and everything except what needed to be talked about. I kept looking out the window… looking for a distraction. That was when I saw it and am now faced with the most terrifying decision of my life.

There in broad daylight, right across the street from us, my Dad came out of the local motel with some woman on his arm. He was supposed to be at work, not here.

Now what am I to do? Perhaps it wasn’t him, and my eyes were playing tricks on me. That was always a possibility, wasn’t it? Today just couldn’t get any worse, I thought.

I watched in horror, as this man that had been posing as a loving husband and father, leaned down to this woman and kissed her. My stomach turned, not only at the thought of my Dad kissing my Mom, but him kissing another woman. That was just gross!

I must have made a face or something because my mom asked if the meal was all right. I assured her that the food was fine, even though I had barely picked at my meal. I didn’t seem to have any appetite lately and even less of one right now.

Forcing myself to look away, I made the mental decision to talk to my Dad before saying anything. I didn’t know if this was the right thing to do, but it would have to be enough, at least for the moment.

Finally, lunch was over. Mom wasn’t really happy that I didn’t eat much, although, she didn’t say anything about it. She just gave me that ‘I wish you would eat more’ look.

After she paid for lunch, we made our way out of the restaurant. Thankfully, Dad was no where to be found. Once I settled into my seat, all I did on the way home was think.

As it turned out, when we got home, I didn’t even get a chance to talk to Dad. My parent’s had to go out for a while and by the time they got back, I was in bed.

I know what you are thinking, my constant stars. Me, home alone, in a wheelchair but I wasn’t alone. My parents had hired a full time nurse, just in case they had to go out and I needed anything.

She lived in the house with us, even had her own little apartment downstairs. She was in her mid 20’s and finished nursing school a couple years ago. We got along great.

If I had an older sister, I would want her to be like Vanessa. She had long black hair, a smile that brightened the room and an amazing personality. No matter how you were feeling, you couldn’t help feeling a little better.

I sat here staring out the window, up at you my faithful stars, thinking about the past couple days. I was surprised at how much everything had changed. One moment I had the world in my hands, the next it was all taken from me.

Why did we have to go to that restaurant for lunch? My mind wouldn’t let me forget what I saw. So I tell you oh faithful stars, for you have always been there. Only you know what was inside my secret heart. Tonight I lay it all out, for we know what is coming tomorrow, don’t we?

The following morning I was able to talk to my Dad. I went to the kitchen for breakfast. He was the only one there. I maneuvered my wheelchair over to the table and sat beside him.

How does one talk about something so serious? Especially with their own father! Even my seemingly, flaky mother was easier to talk to, than my Dad was.

I remember how I tried to start the conversation. I was so embarrassed about what I saw. It was horrific having to relive it the next morning, but I had to.

“Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked hesitantly.

“Of course, pumpkin,” he said, ruffling my hair.

I hated when he ruffled my hair. That morning I hated it even more. I felt like such an impostor. “Dad, were you on Breezewater Street yesterday?”

He never looked up from his paper. I could hear his breath catch in his chest. It looked like there was sweat on his brow.

It was true! What I saw… was actually what happened.

“I’m not sure what to tell you pumpkin.” He wasn’t to be able to look me in the eyes.

I fought the instinct to start screaming. “You cannot leave things like this. Mom has to be told. I won’t be part of a lie. It ends, Daddy. Now!” I could feel myself getting angry with him.

No 13 year old should have to face this. I shouldn’t have to be the one to parent my parent. I just wanted to enjoy the last of my childhood. Only that was completely shattered now. If he was willing to lie about this, what else was he lying about?

“I don’t know how, darling. If I told her, everything would change, even if I ended things. Which I will, I promise.” He looked me in the eyes, as if by him doing that I would be able to believe him. “There is nothing saying that your Mother would ever forgive or stay with me.”

I had never seen my Dad look so lost before. The last thing I wanted was for my parents not to be together. How could I get out of this?

“Forgive what?” came a voice in the doorway.

Oh my god, it’s mom. I had no idea what I should do. Should I leave? Should I stay? If I should leave, how would I without drawing attention to myself?

“We were just talking and I think you and I need to talk… alone.” Dad said to mom, while looking directly at me.

I said nothing, just moved my wheelchair back from the table and left the room. I knew I didn’t want to go too far, I knew what my mom was like. She hated bad news, and this was going to devastate her. I was so torn, having never been through anything like this before. I had no one to talk to about it. I was at a loss.

The next thing I heard was Mom yelling at Dad. I didn’t hear Dad saying anything but I knew something was up. I was upset, so I could only imagine what they were going through.

I was so confused between wanting to be angry with him for hurting mom like this and knowing what could possibly happen. How could he be so selfish? Yet, I couldn’t help feeling for him too. He was always putting us first. There had to be a reason for it. I just wasn’t sure if I really wanted the answer.

Mom came running out of the kitchen and headed straight for their bedroom. Next thing I saw was mom throwing everything of dad’s into the hall. There were clothes flying, shoes hitting the wall, it was a mess. She kept screaming for him to get out.

All I could do was sit there. I remember, moving my wheelchair toward the kitchen, peeking around the corner and seeing my Dad sitting there with his head in his hands.

What did I do? I wrecked everything! This is my fault. Why couldn’t I just have kept my mouth shut? No one would have been the wiser. Mom could live in her little dream world. I could have found a better time to talk to Dad. This could have all been avoided.

I turned back to look down the hall in the direction of my parents bedroom. The clothes were pilling up outside the door. Mom was still screaming, incoherently now. I could hear her crying between gasps and screams.

Why doesn’t he go to her? He should fix this.

Almost as if he had heard me, he got up from the table and headed towards their room. I could do nothing as a shoe flew out of the bedroom, and hit my dad in the chest. If it hadn’t been such a horrifying situation, I might have laughed.

I looked at my Dad standing there. I willed him to walk through that door and take mom into his arms, make all sorts of promises to make things better. That only works in the movies though. This wasn’t a movie. This was my life and it was quickly, falling apart

He did go into the room and closed the door. The screaming stopped, the crying took over. I started going down the hall toward my room. The entire time praying that the door wouldn’t open and I wouldn’t get hit with anything.

When I was finally in my room, I closed the door slightly. I could still hear my parents. Mom asking my Dad over and over, how he could do this to us, to the family, to her? What were we going to do? How could he expect her to forgive him? It didn’t matter if was once or 100 times, he still cheated on her!

I could feel the tears filling my eyes. I just wanted to scream at both of them to fix this, to make everything all right again. I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I wiped my eyes on my shirt sleeve and just kept sitting there.

I couldn’t help wanting to escape this house, their anger. Yet I stayed. I could have gone out the front door, and just gotten away from all this, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

The door to my parent’s bedroom opened, I could feel my breathing stop.

What was going to happen next? Was Dad leaving? Was mom going to let him stay?

The phone rang as Dad started to walk out of the room. Mom picked up the phone and called for him to wait. I couldn’t make out what Mom was saying.

The next thing I heard was the phone clatter to the floor, then my Dad speaking. I heard the phone slam down and my Mom crying.

What was going on now? I wondered.

Mom and Dad walked from their room into mine. I guess they knew I was in here. I looked at them both of them standing there, holding hands.

Well that’s a start, I thought.

Mom was looking even more lost than before. I stared as she tried to get the words out. Dad was crying. I had started to panic. I wanted to know if they were going to be okay.

“What’s going on?” I asked frantically.

“There’s bad news pumpkin,” Dad said.

“You guys are splitting up?” I could only whisper those words.

“No,” came mom’s reply.

I looked up in shock. She was letting him stay? If I could have gotten out of the chair I would have ran and hugged them.

“You guys are going to be all right then?” I asked. I could feel the excitement building inside me. Finally, something good happened.

“Yes, it will take time. Your father and I have some serious issues we have to talk about, but I think that we will make it.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “That’s great news! I’m so happy that you guys are going to be okay.”

Mom and Dad looked at each other then back to me. “There’s more, baby,” Mom said, her voice filled with emotion.

“What do you mean more? How can there be any more to this?”

“No pumpkin, we are talking about the phone call,” Dad said.

“Phone call?” I had forgotten about that. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It was the doctor honey. You have to go into the hospital for some tests,” Dad said.

“That’s nothing new. I’m always going into the hospital for tests, Dad. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“This time there was.” Dad looked like he was barely hanging on.

Mom was crying harder now and she was hanging on to him for dear life.

“What is going on?” I looked from Mom to Dad and back again.

“The blood tests…” Mom’s voice trailed off.

“They found something honey. You have to go in for tests to confirm it.”

“Confirm it? Confirm what?”

“The doctors saw that your white blood cell count was off. They need to run more tests to be sure of what’s going on,” Dad said, not looking me in the eyes.

Mom collapsed onto the floor sobbing.

“Mom!” I said panicking.

She waved her hand at me, not wanting me to worry.

I looked to Dad for help.

“We have to be there first thing in the morning,” Dad continued distantly, crouching beside Mom. He helped her back to her feet.

“I think I would like to be alone now,” I said.

“Honey,..” Mom said.

“Not now Mom. Please? Just let me be,” I pleaded. I knew I was trying to hold myself together, and it wouldn’t be long before the tears came. I looked at Dad, imploring him to leave.

He saw that I meant what I said, so he took hold of Mom and brought her back into their room. When they left the tears fell. I couldn’t stop crying.

One thing after another, it’s just one thing after another. Then just as quickly as I started crying I stopped. I was not going to let this beat me.

The rest of the day passed. Mom and Dad cleaned the mess in the hallway, and we went out for dinner that night. The next morning, I went for tests at the hospital and waited for the results.

I kept going over everything, what I would do if it was positive, what I would do if it was negative. All I could do was wait.

That brings us to today, my dear constant, listening stars. The results came in today. I have it… Leukemia. Starting tomorrow I have to go for chemotherapy. They didn’t know if it was going to work or not. This week my friends, as you know, had been a sleepless one. Perhaps soon I would be able to sleep peacefully.

Mom and Dad seem to have put aside things, for a while at least. They have decided to go into counseling which was going to be good for them.

I was trying to figure out how to tell my secret, my always quiet listeners. How do I tell my parents the one thing that would most likely kill them?

How do I tell them that I’m not afraid to die?

For tonight, my bright lights, I say good night. I will try to sleep and face what I have to tomorrow. Thank you, for always listening my friends. For always being here when no one else is. One day I will be among you. Tonight though, I will just admire you.

Good night.

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