For once, I don't have an alarm or an impatient mother in the morning. For once, I'm able to relax, and enjoy the morning.
However, as I attempt to fasten myself into my wheelchair, I'm stopped at the sound of voices coming from the room just next to mine.
"How are we going to pay for these bills, Joanne?" My stepfather says. I can picture him clearly. He's rubbing his forehead in exasperation as he leans against the wall.
"I don't know, Phil." My mother's sitting on the bed. "But we have to do what's best for Maria."
"Didn't the doctor say that it was hopeless?" My breath catches in my throat as he continues. "I mean, she's going to die, anyways."
Something fell to the floor with a loud crash. "Don't you dare say that, Phil!" My mother's voice cracked, and when she spoke next, her voice was choked with sobs. "We have to- we- we have to believe that Maria will survive this. We'll do whatever's possible to help her."
"At the expense of our funds? Joanne, you know that we're hardly making enough money to cover her medicine. Now the hospital bills, too? How's our insurance looking?" He continues talking, but I don't hear him. I've managed to unclip myself and I've dove back into bed, the covers muffling my sobs.