Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Drama

Blood trickled down his right hand, he had punched the brick wall 3 times already. I'm only seventeen. He thought quietly to hiself. The thought became overwhelming and he began crying, feeling the hot sting of tears falling down his face.
"Why!?" He shouted angrily at the sky as he punched the brick wall again. This time there was a loud cracking sound from his middle knuckle, and a sharp pain ran through his hand making him cry harder than before. 
"Why me?" He sobbed quietly. He was short and skinny for his age at only five feet four inches, and 110 pounds. He had short brown hair that puffed out like an afro. He had a light complexion and deep green eyes. 
He turned away and slumped down with his back against the wall crying, and watching blood and tears fall onto the sidewalk below him. He was happy once. He thought back on all the birthdays he had. Thought back on all the friends he had made. Was this really how it was going to end for him? No...I mean it can't be... he thought. 
Today was the day that he found out what had been causing all of his health problems, and now that he knew; he wished he didn't. The test results were clear though, stage 3 brain cancer. The lowest possible survival rate. 
"Brian?" A woman's voice called softly from his left side. He looked up and saw his mother, she was standing with her small hands clasped in front of her. Tear marks were running down both cheeks. Her soft blue eyes were dry telling him that she had cried all she could for now. He stood slowly standing a few inches shorter than his mother. He let out a faint smile.
"I think I broke a knuckle." He stated flatly. 
"At least we are still at the hospital" she said with a half hearted laugh. He stared at her for a moment before laughing at the irony of that fact.