I let my fingers graze on the flat surface of the mouse on my laptop as I directed it to the play button.

“Happy birthday!” a loud cheer came through the speakers, and I grinned, fixing my eyes on the screen.

I recall that day distinctly, as if it was yesterday. It was Noah’s birthday. Mom and I packed a bunch of dessert for him, since it was his birthday, before we made our way to the ward.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday! Happy birthday! Happy birthday to you!” Mom and I chanted with joy in our hearts as I fixed the camera on Noah’s face. He gave the both of us one of his weekly grins — you can tell cancer held him down.

“So where’s my cake?” Noah sat up straight on his bed with a pout visiblenon his lips. Mom laughed and pointed out that the doctors wouldn’t let us bring in the cake, but she was going to fight them.

With that, she left the room to battle with the poor humans in a white robe.

Noah turned to the camera I was holding and ran his hand through his hair. “Is it good?” he wanted to know.

How badly I wanted to tell him it wasn’t because he looked different. Cancer had sucked all the life in him, and the boy who used to be weighty and huge looks nothing less than a skeleton. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were blue and cracked.

“I’m not taking your picture,” I heard myself mutter, “videos give people a better memory.”

He smiled like a child and started doing many selfie faces. Duckface, tongue out, peace sign—you name it.

I gave a hearty laugh as I recalled how he usually took his pictures back then. He would ruin the whole filter.

It was nice to see that he didn’t let cancer hold him down. But that was Noah for you. No matter how bad the situation was for him, he constantly got through it with a smile.

Tiny beads of water on my keyboard; I realized I had been crying. My mind told me it would be torture watching these videos all over again; I wished to see his childlike smile again.

I wanted to watch the video since I was a sobbing mess, but my voice stopped me. “How does it feel like to be 20?” I fixed the camera on his face as if he was in an interview.

He stretched out his hands over his head and said, “No difference...”

He looked out of the window viewing the world in front of him as if he couldn’t wait to get back to it, “but I have a strong desire to get out of here and go on with my main purpose.”

“Which is?”

He twisted back to me with his signature grin, “to put a smile on you and mom’s face of course.”

That did it for me.

I slammed my laptop shut; I lay my head on it and cried my eyes out.

This was not what he promised.

After I cried my eyes out, I put my head up and wiped my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. When my eyes caught one of his mini picture portraits standing on my wardrobe.

“Happy birthday, Noah,” I whispered, as hot tears rolled down my cheeks once again.

♥️
YaDramaQueen