Dear Diary,
They think I’m going to die.
The chemotherapy and drugs are not working.
I’m hooked to machines that monitor my heartbeat and breathing and lord knows what else. The kind doctor with the warm hands said am not responsive, he said I don’t have very long. ‘She’s declining rapidly,’ he whispered to my parents. They haven’t told me, but I know.
I hear it in their whispered words, the sorrow in my father’s eyes as he smiles and adjusts my pillow. Every night I hear my mama pray, yelling ‘Baba God!’ I pretend I am asleep but I hear her questioning God. I can’t help but wonder myself what I did wrong exactly I am just 14, I thought I had my whole life ahead of me. CANCER that was something that happened to others not me, that was something that happened in movies or at least in other part of the world.
I am scared of dying, because I’m not sure what it means. I might never see my mother’s face again and that hurts! Yes, it hurts more than the chemo. Today she has her favorite wrapper on, the one with the happy animals and stars.
My mouth tastes and smells horrible. I think it’s all the drugs, am sick of it! Am propped up so I can write this, which may be my last. Am sad that I never got to do some things and never will. I never wrote the almighty WAEC, I’m never going to see my friends again, but that’s okay if GOD is okay.
I have to lie back now; my ribs are starting to ache again. Am getting dizzy again,sit happoons mor thzzzzz dais… sorry, am weak I lov youu mommi daddy tank loawd ffur gifing me u. dowont cry IF I DIE.
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