A Thousand Years

I hate it when people throw the word 'Love' around. It's so special and fragile...it shouldn't be tossed around heartlessly. 'I love you,' Those three words can change somebody's life forever. And that's why I wouldn't say this, unless it were true. I love my best friend, Quinn Brown. But not just in the brotherly way. More like; I'd die for him. Yeah, I'd throw myself in front of a speeding car for him, and yet I don't have the guts to actually tell him that my heart is his. Well if I'm ever going to reveal the truth, then it better be now, because I'm running out of time. You see, here's the thing... I'm dying of Cancer.

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2. Beauty In All She Is - Quinn

Time stands still
Beauty in all she is

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

I arrived home, slamming the door shut with my foot and dumping my rucksack on the floor.

"Mum? Mum, are you home?" I walked through to the kitchen to see her sitting on the tattered sofa. She didn't acknowledge my presence; she just continued to stare out the patio doors with wide, eccentric looking eyes. But she was anything but lively. I didn't bother trying to get a response out of her; I just grabbed the phone and a takeaway leaflet off the counter.

That's what we'd been living off recently. Takeaways and McDonald's that had gone cold by the time I got them home. I'd write a list of goods for her to get while she was out shopping - but I doubt she even left the house. She hadn't been working either, which meant that there wasn't any funds apart from the money I made by doing odd jobs around town. But it wasn't enough.

I pitied her. She was meant to be the mother. She was meant to go out and work hard before coming home and asking how my day had been. She was meant to be loving and caring - but that was asking too much. It was like I didn't know her anymore. She was behind a glass screen, watching the world go by whilst she sat there, silent and immobile.

She just didn't react anymore. Once, I fell down the stairs and broke my foot, and she didn't even wince at my shrieks. I literally had to crawl to the phone and ask Charlie for a lift to the hospital. Luckily, her Dad came, and he's never been the type to stop and chat with other parents. He likes to get the job done and leave as soon as possible; no fuss.

Which is probably why we got on well.

I fell backwards onto my bed, mattress groaning under the weight. My room was nothing to admire. The ceiling had patches of damp, the wallpaper was peeling of the walls, and the carpet was matted and filthy. Dust coated everything like a dusting of mid-winter snow. My room was at the front of the house, nearest to the busy road. It kept me up sometimes, but I didn't mind. It reminded me that life still existed somewhere out there. It confirmed that I wasn't the only one left in the world; there were others out there too. Not everyone was as pathetic as my mother. Some were actually leading lives and pursuing dreams. Not stuck in a house that was falling apart with a single parent who was broken, and resembled the walking dead more than she did a human.

I closed my eyes, needing to escape the dull colours and dead reality. I was back at school, with Charlie. She was grinning, her teeth white and her eyes laughing. She got laugh-lines around her eyes when she was happy. It made her look a little more defined. Her dark hair was falling in her stormy eyes, and she flicked it away so that it landed behind her ear. Charlie was beautiful, and she didn't even realise it. She didn't understand that she was the only reason I hadn't broken down and revealed myself as the screwed up, sorry fool I am. She didn't see that once she was gone...

I fought back the tears that threatened to spill. I was alone in my room, but I didn't feel like it. I felt like every critic in the world was eying me superstitiously, questioning my every action, analysing my every emotion. It was ridiculous of course, but I was paranoid. Messed up. A total freak. A fake. A liar. I told everyone I was fearless, that my life couldn't get any better. They couldn't even imagine what I'd been through.

Neither of their parents visited once a month and then went and died on you. None of their mother's suffered from severe depression, either unable to make contact or just plain ignorant. And none of them were going to be left completely and utterly alone once Charlie died.

I wanted to hold her tightly and whisper how much she meant to me in her small, ivory ear. I wanted to tell her that if she survived this shit, then I was never going to let her go again. But she wasn't going to survive. She was going to die. And I was going to crumble. And she wasn’t going to be there to catch me when I fell.

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