[𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓, 18+]
Eric Calloway, the rich badboy, meets Liliana Mendes, the good girl at a party, before senior year. He notices her, and it was love at first sight for the both of them-well, next plaything for him. A kiss was shar...
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ERIC'S POV
MY FINGERS WERE MAGNETIC TO THE BLANK CANVAS, I couldn't sleep or eat for these past few weeks. All I could do was paint or draw—and all the works were of her. The strokes on the portrait was soft yet rough as I painted, my head was fucking with me and I needed to put my feelings into something creative because if I didn't, I would fall back into my old routine.
My parents have been worried about me ever since I started to get a sore throat again, my voice was hoarse and I had an impediment with my breathing during the night—this happened for about two weeks until they decided to go back to Dr. Griffin.
I was fucking terrified about my condition, this happened four years ago—why now, when I found something worth living for?
When I was a freshman, I started to get this sore throat sporadically and this happened for a while. My friends were concerned about me and I told them: 'It's just a cold.' What I didn't know that it was something more life-threatening.
It was cancer. Throat cancer.
Throat cancer is a cancerous tumors that develop in pharynx (throat), voice box (larynx) or tonsils. The cancer develops in the flat cells that line the inside of your throat.
I didn't know that I had it that was until I started to show symptoms — I had difficulty when it came to eating food, it was a fucking scorching sensation when in taking food. Within that few weeks, I started to notice a lump growing on the side of my neck—I started to panic, I told my parents and we rushed to hospital the same time.
And that's when I met Dr Griffin, she was a lady in her early forties, she had crescent moon spectacles, green irises and she looked good for her age. She went through my file and looked at me with pity and I fuckin' lost it—I was going to die.
Dr Griffin reassured my parents that everything will be alright as she will do everything she can for me—I believed her. I had a tiny piece of hope that I will fight this disease, but then it got worst.
My breathing was slow and deteriorating, it felt as if I was deprived from oxygen and my lungs were screaming to cooperate but I couldn't and neither could my body. My voice was hoarse in school but Bella and John just thought it was puberty—I never told them that I have cancer, because they will be worried about me, constantly. And I didn't need to feel or treated like a fucking baby who can't do anything for himself.
