"I am sorry, Mrs Sanders. But you have to be grateful that it's not cancer." The doctor 's voice was void of emotion as he spoke to my Mom. I pressed my ear to the keyhole, trying my best to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Of course, he's right. I'm not going to die. Death would be easier, a peaceful, eternal sleep. Instead, I am going to live a hard, painful life. It had already begun: the tremors, the lack of balance, the feeling like I might pass out from exhaustion no matter how much I slept. And it was only getting worse.

I have juvenile Parkinson's disease.

This is one of the rare diseases that people don't hear much about. It is even rarer in teenagers. I had never thought much about my body -how it worked, what made it tick. But, after my diagnosis, I scoured the internet for any information I could find on my new and permanent illness.

It affects the production of dopamine in the brain, slowing down motor and muscle movement, eventually leading to harsher symptoms like lack of control of basic movements in the body. In short, within a matter of years -ten or more if I'm lucky- I won't be able to tie my own shoelaces.

I stopped listening to the conversation and went back to my bed. I could hear Dr. Frederick leaving after a few minutes. Soon, we won't be able to afford him. We could go to the health clinic a few miles from our home, but Mom is afraid of me catching another infection and prefers having a doctor coming out to our house.

            The morning sunlight danced through the window slits as I gazed up at the vanilla wallpaper on the ceiling. The posters of pop stars on the walls were beginning to fade. My bed felt soft and comfortable as I curled into my favourite unicorn patterned pillow. I heard my room's door open and lavender perfume wafted through the air.

           "Hey, hon," my mom said as she came into my room and sat down on the bed beside me. I never locked my room as I often needed help from her. Besides, we were alone in the small house now. Dad had left us two days ago. He didn't even say goodbye, now that I think about it.

      "Mel, I know this is going to be hard, but we don't have a choice. My mom's words broke my reverie. "I know you don't like to talk about this, but the doctor says you should drop school as soon as possible." She paused as if she expected me to argue, but I remained silent.

       "I don't want you to over exert yourself." She continued after a moment. "It will only increase the progression of the sickness." She never says the name of the disease, as if saying the name would somehow make it more painful.

         I moved my head to the side to look at her. "I know, Mom." I said, my voice tired and strained. "It is not like I love school anyway. You should talk to the school counsellor to let them know." I shifted in my bed making the wood creak. The creases on my mom's forehead were lessening. A faint smile of relief rested on her lips.

        "Alright love, I'll drop by after my shift tomorrow."

She paused for a minute.

"Now, why don't you come along with me and we can bake cookies together?"

"Mom, you know I am too old for this."

"You can never be too old to bake cookies! C'mon now lady, get up."

I pretended to be sleepy and let out a yawn. She punched me playfully on my arms and I groaned aloud.

____________________________________________________________

"Look who's here: the sick, bitchy weirdo." Stefanie, and her gang sneered at me as they walked by me in the hall. I never understood Stefanie. She seems to be cool with everyone else at school except me. Maybe, she had a reason that I wasn't aware of, something I said or did to make her mad.

          As usual, I tried my best to ignore them and started to make my way towards my class. No one at school knows about my disease except the teachers. After all, it has only been six months since I was diagnosed.

        "Where is that bitch clown, Clara?" Stefanie called out to me as I made my way further down the corridor hall. "Oh, I forgot, my bad. She's dead."

           I felt anger coursing through my veins as I stopped in place. The other students tried to walk away from the scene as I turned back to face her.

            Stefanie's eyes lit up with delight as she realised she had my full attention. "Did you hear it? Her dad ran away from her mom. I don't blame him. After all, who can be with two bitches at the same time?"

She had never gone so far.

My legs were already tired from walking too fast. But I resolved that I had to fight back today. I rushed towards her, my footsteps thudding through the hallway. My body began to tremble, but I fought to regain control. 'Calm down, Mel,' I thought to myself as I stood before her. 'She deserves this.'

With all the force I could muster, I slapped her in the face.
It was the first time I had ever hurt someone physically and it almost scared me how good it felt.

                    Her face was etched with shock and anger as I stepped back, bracing myself for the attack I knew was coming. My palm was hurting from the impact and everyone around us were staring at me, but I didn't care. I looked around as the hallway became silent.

Only then did I notice Mr. Richard standing at the doorway of his classroom gaping at the scene.
****************************************
Author 's Note:
If you liked this chapter, don't forget to vote and comment.❤️