Just Breathe Again by Mia Villano

stuffy. Marsha bent down and hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.
      “No, well the shot hurt they numbed me with. I’m going to look like an idiot going back to school like this. Are they putting me on medicine again that makes me tired?” asked Lydia, looking half asleep.
      Marsha walked over and shut the door. Jeannie sat down on the bed and held her daughters hand. She had to be strong and not fall apart. It would be the hardest thing she had ever done. That was worse than taking her husband off his life support. At least, Jeannie knew there was a reason for that. This had no reasoning.
      “I want you to listen to me. Are you awake enough to listen?” said Jeannie. She grabbed her daughters other hand.
      “Mom, you’re scaring me. Yes, I’m awake. What’s wrong with me? It’s bad, right?” asked Lydia, sitting up in bed.
      Jeannie swallowed and looked at Marsha for help. Marsha nodded her head at her. 
      “They found a…” She couldn’t say tumor. She had to reach down inside of herself and tell her the truth. She looked away and tried to gather her strength to tell her the worst news ever.                 
      “Lydia, you have cancer in your head. I don’t know how else to tell you. They found this bad thing when they did the CT scan. Today they did the MRI and this biopsy and its cancer, honey,” said Jeannie. Silence filled the dark hospital room for a few minutes, except for the sound of the beeping of the machines.
      “Okay. Are they going to take the tumor out?” she asked, not listening to what Jeannie was saying to her. Neither Marsha nor Jeannie answered her right away.
      “They are going to have to cut into my brain. I’m going to have a bald spot and stitches in my head,” said Lydia, getting upset.
      “No, they can’t remove the tumor. It’s in a difficult place in your head. They can’t take it out,” said Jeannie.
      “What are they going to do?  Is the tumor growing? Will the tumor be sticking out of my head?” she asked.
     Marsha spoke up noticing Jeannie was becoming upset again. “Yes, and no. They are going to leave the tumor alone and give you medicine to see if it will shrink.”
      “Do you mean chemo?” asked Lydia, looking scared.
      “Yes, they are going to start chemo,” said Marsha.
      “And my hair will fall out,” said Lydia. Jeannie gazed into her eyes. Big brown eyes starred back at her in puzzlement. Jeannie starred at her for a moment in silence as she gathered her thoughts.
     Jeannie held her gaze trying to make her understand without coming out and saying, death. “Lydia, listen to me. They are going to give you chemo if you want. It’s not going to do much for you.”
      “What are you saying, Mom? This cancer can’t come out and the chemo isn’t going to do anything? I’m dying?” asked Lydia, as tears pooled in her brown eyes. The eyes Jeannie loved to look into as a baby. The eyes were the same as Vince’s. The eyes she would see the life leave soon. 
      “Lydia, the type of cancer you have in your brain is… bad. They want you to start chemo to shrink the tumor. But…”
      “But what? Tell me what’s happening. Don’t lie to me, Mom. You said you wouldn’t lie to me so don’t lie now,” she yelled and cried at the same time in a weakened voice.
       “Lydia, I’m not going to lie to you or tell you it’s going to be okay. It’s not going to be okay. This tumor is not going to go away, ever. The chemo is going to give you more time, not a cure,” Jeannie said, crying again.
      Lydia sat there and didn’t say anything. She looked out beyond her mom and beyond Marsha. The room became silent again as Lydia took in the fact she was dying. She wouldn’t marry, give birth, go to college, and get a first job or first apartment. Never have a first kiss even.
      “Give me more time? What, another sixty years? More time? It’s going to make me suffer during the