Falling #3

October 12, 2010.

My father was a heavy smoker when he was younger. He got better when my mom was pregnant and while I was growing up, but he never gave up the bad habit completely. He never smoked around me though, I would just know by the way his clothes had that bitter smell whenever he came home sometimes. And so I never thought much about it, I mean sometimes he’d go into a coughing fit or his voice would get all hoarse and I would just furrow my eyebrows and bring him a glass of water. I would pat his back and wait for him to settle down. A few moments later he would look up, kiss my cheek, and tell me he’s fine with a bright smile.

I believed him every time.

On May 8, 2008 my father was diagnosed with lung cancer. My mom cried and cried that day. I stared at the ground and bit my lip. He just laughed it off, he told us he would beat it. He could never leave his two favorite ladies to fend for themselves.

But my father got worse and worse. It started off with occasional coughing and shortness in breath but turned into vomiting blood and difficulty in breathing. Chemotherapy didn’t help. I watched the days go by, my father seemed to be aging quick. My mother was no different, the stress was getting to her. She worked long hours and multiple jobs to pay for our living expenses and hospital bills. I offered to get a part time job to help but she gave me a look and told me to worry about education not adult problems. So I did.

I focused on my schoolwork, getting high grades and all but no one was ever home for me to share the good news with. I would visit my father in the hospital to show him my marks and he would weakly smile and tell me how proud he was before falling asleep.

I still ate lunch with Kai and his friends. Sometimes we even hung out after school. We would get bubble tea or I would tutor them, or well try to. Sometimes when it was too late Kai would walk me home, never once asking me why my father could never pick me up like his dates' fathers did. I never told them about my situation at home. I wouldn't want to burden them like that.

The boys also got more popular. They got more handsome. They started going out on dates and were receiving confessions and stares wherever they went.

“Don’t worry. You’ll always be my favorite girl,” they would laugh every time they told me they were going on a date. I would just roll my eyes and smile. Except when it came to Kai. My smile would waver, but no one would notice. I knew these dates meant nothing and he would probably never see her again, but I still didn’t like it. Why? I'm not sure myself.

I, on the other hand didn’t change much. I lost the glasses and my hair grew out. My body began to fill out more, not that anyone would notice. I always wore modest clothing for comfort. The boys would always tell me I was pretty or that they would have to be more protective of me now, but I knew they were just playing with me. They were huge flirts.

July 1, 2010. That was the day my father decided to stop chemotherapy. He didn’t look like my father anymore. He was skinny and bald. He was also bedridden and hooked up to a machine. He had decided chemo wasn't working and he would fight cancer naturally on his own at home. He was sick of the hospital. The doctors couldn’t bear to tell him he wasn’t going to make it.

October 2,2010. 3:56 AM My father had been pronounced dead. He had lost the battle to cancer.

My mother was an absolute wreck. She cried and screamed. She threw things around the house. I just watched silently. I dug my fingernails into my palms and screamed with her on the inside.

That evening I had left the house, I didn't want to sit around and discuss funeral details. I wasn't ready for that yet. I ran to the park across the street and sat at the same bench I did when I first moved here ten years ago. I brought my knees up to my chest and cried.

And cried.

And cried.

My phone rang a couple hours later. I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my swe