Cancer & the Lottery

Ally The last time I wrote in my book, it was exactly one year, four months and three days ago. So much has happened to my new sisters and me. Janice took me in until I turned eighteen, and then I bought a condo that overlooks Central Park. Janice bought a home forty-five minutes outside the city, and Sarah and Melinda bought a condo on the east side of the city and are roommates. We usually meet on the first Saturday of each month to catch up. I love it when we all visit. They always make my day. There’s nothing like people caring for you when they have no agenda behind it. They help me escape any problems that someone my age goes through. When it comes to my mother, it bothers me that we do not get along, and that she relapsed back into her addiction a few months ago. It hurts me to see her like this. I begged her numerous times to stop, but I realized she will never change. Her pain is no longer physical, it’s mental, and I can’t blame her. She lost my sister, her daughter. However, this still does not give her the right to be the victim. I should be the victim. I was a ward of the state, not her. Marisa used to beg her to stop, and then she emancipated herself and never looked back. I hate to open these wounds that have not been able to heal, but if I don’t, then who will? I need therapy to get through my issues, and because I don’t feel comfortable telling anyone, this notebook will have to do for now. We can thank Professor Morry for this choice of therapy. Ally   Professor Morry Sitting in professor Morry’s class, Ally can’t help but think of her sister, Marisa. She sits in the same seat that her sister used to sit in when she attended Professor Morry’s class. Professor Morry says, “Our ongoing assignment for the last month of class will be to use a marble notebook to write down your most intimate thoughts about what you are going through inside and out. You don’t have to come to class, so I hope we can try the honor system where you write down your thoughts and feelings. You never know what can come from doing this for a month. A few years ago, a young student of mine passed unfortunately, but kept her thoughts and writing and it became a best seller. We all have a story in us, and this month you’re going to write that story. Now that I have you all ready to go to sleep, class is dismissed.” All the students start to head out, except Ally, as Professor Morry ask her to stay after class to talk. Professor Morry came up and asked, “How are you, Ally?” “I’m alright, I guess.” “Are you sure you’re just alright?” “Yeah, why do you ask?” “You don’t have the same spirit that you showed in the beginning of the school year. Is there anything you want to talk about?” “Nope, and if there is, I’ll be sure to write it all down,” Ally says with a sarcastic smile.” Professor Morry grins and says, “I’m looking forward to hearing your story. Your sister loved you. It’s all in her writing. She always thought about you. Every personal note was about her love for you and wishing she had the courage and strength to help rebuild a relationship with you.” Ally says to Professor Morry, “Maybe that’s the problem. She only wrote it down. She never took the time to tell me why she felt that way. So to me, as much as I do love her, they are only words. So with that said, have a great day.” He smiles and says, “You too, Ally.”   Issues at Home Ally now heads to her mother’s apartment to check in on her. The elevator is not working, which aggravates her. She takes a deep breath to distract herself from thinking about the flight of stairs she has to walk up. As she is walking up, she comes up behind an older woman who is walking very slowly, which wears Alley’s patience very thin. It is a lengthy fifteen-minute walk up the stairs, although it would have only taken five minutes if the elderly lady hadn’t been moving as slow as molasses. Exhausted, Ally walks gingerly to the door, and knocks lightly. A man comes out of the apartment, looks at her, and then begins to walk down the flight of stairs. Assuming the worst Ally rushes into the house, and calls, “Mom, where are you?” “I’m in here.” “Where is here?” “The bedroom, I think.” Ally rushes in and sees pills all around her mom’s bed, and her mother lapsing in and out of consciousness. Ally rushes her mother to the bathroom, turns on the shower, and hopes that the water will wake her up. She says, “Wake up, wake up! Why do you always have to do this?” Her mother does not respond to the question, just smiles, and says, “Because.” “Because what, because what, what?” Ally screams frantically. Ally continues, “I’m tired of this. I can’t do this anymore. I refuse to deal with you. I should leave you like you did your other daughter.” Her mother looks back at her and says, “I did not leave your sister. Your sister left me. She emancipated herself, which made the state take you. So don’t blame me. Blame her, damn it. Blame her.” Her mother starts to cry, and Ally gives her a hug as both of them stand in the tub. Ally turns on the shower to help her mother shake off whatever is happening to her. As the water falls, Ally starts to hum and sing softly to her mother. It’s her own rendition of the child’s rain song. She says, “Come on mom, lets sing that song you used to sing to us. I’m going to remix it a little, okay?” Ally’s mother nods her head. However, she just listens to Ally singing the song. Her voice cracking, she begins to sing to her mother, “Here we go: Rain, rain, go away. Don’t be ashamed. Rain, rain, go away. My love for you will stay the same. Rain, rain, go away. Stop bringing all this pain my way. Rain, rain, go away.” She repeats this to her mother a few times until her voice becomes weak and her mother’s weight becomes heavy on her chest. Ally turns off the running water and carries her mother to her bed. She finds a pair of sweats in the hamper, shakes her head, puts them on, and walks out of the house to head back to her place, as she is supposed to meet her sisters to pick the four locations where they’ll go on their new adventure.