"Josh, Micah died this morning." I swear, those are some of the hardest words I've ever had to say. And I've been through a lot of hard stuff.
Josh just stared, and I stared right back, trying to read his face. Was he sad, angry, was he going to get into one of those moods? (I hope not, we've got enough with Ryan's moods around here for two families)
I was trying to figure it out when he let out a sob, and ran upstairs to his room.
Ryan, also making strange faces, said nothing. "Another day ruined by that awful disease." the way he said that last part made me realise that he'd wanted to use some pretty strong language (something I do not admit in this family, under any circumstance). I didn't blame him. I wanted to use some pretty strong language myself.
Micah had the same type of leukemia that Josh had. He'd been getting the same chemotherapy, even the same study drugs. And he'd died.
The overwhelming fear, which I tried hard to push away every day, was back.
The two smaller children, Jamie and Mike, were watching me intently, lower lips quivering slightly.
"What's wrong?" Jamie asked softly, almost a whisper. "Is Joshie sick again?"
"No, Jamie." I shook my head, then took her hand and Mike's, too, leading them to the couch, where I was about to explain the strange, dark concept of death to my two smallest children.
* * *
The next few days were strange, to put it lightly. Ryan was- again- in one of his moods, and the rest of kids were mostly acting strange.
I met up with Sophia and my lawyer and figured out some of the stuff... the sad part is that the lawyer didn't think Sophia had a particularly strong case, as she didn't work, didn't have most of the money, and basically had more things against her.
On the good side, he was sure Sophia would get at least Julia's custody. Maybe the rest of the children would have to decide who they preferred to live with.
Another semi-good thing that happened was that Josh had the privilege of writing a speech in honor of Micah, and he had to read it at the funeral. The fact that he had to read at a friend's funeral was not nice, but his speech was beautiful and made me realize, even more, what great kids I've got. He stood up in front of the 100 or so people there were, and on a day he's had a spinal tap, too. That takes a lot of courage. He had a headache and still went on.
A very strange thing that happened on Friday the 10th, which happened to also be the day of the funeral. Ryan and I were the only ones in the house, as Jamie was in school, Mike at the neighbor's, and Josh at the hospital (he had only managed to leave for two hours, just for the funeral, because we begged- but he had heavy chemo) and I was hearing strange sounds, as if things were falling down. It took me several minutes for it to register that Ryan was not only throwing just about everything in his room, but he was yelling as if he was possessed.
Kind of scared (not that I would have admitted it to anyone), I went up to his room and without knocking, opened the door.
"What is the meaning of this?" I asked, exactly how I once swore I would never talk to my kids.
Ryan glared at me and stopped throwing books onto the floor, then he sat down on his bed and said: "I don't want to talk about it." If I hadn't noticed before, I would have noticed by the way he was talking that he was crying.
"Besides, you're supposed to knock." he accused.
"I'm sorry, Ryan. I'm just worried. You haven't been acting like yourself lately, or rather not since October, I'd say."
Ryan just glared at me. If looks could kill, I'd have been murdered that instant.
"I- I'm having a hard time dealing with this." he admitted.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I think I need some help, Dad." he ignored my question, and getting up, turned to the closet. He took off his shirt and turned around again, and I realized, just glancing at his arms, just what was going on.
Thin red marks etched strange, horrifying lines all over his arms.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Knky, good guess. Other people, take a deep breath before reading. This may come as a bit of a shock.
(and review! I want to know if you expected it!)
(and review! I want to know if you expected it!)
