Expires in Three Months

grimPrompt: Please write your thoughts, as yourself, which you would have if you were told you had three months left to live from terminal cancer.


Blood buzzes in my ears with my biggest fear. Death. Dying. The unknown. Where do we go? What happens to us? The fact that we live to die and accept that it all ends with a big bang, a burst of pain, a flash of lights. I guess I’ll be finding out sooner than expected.

My mind flip flops between being relieved with knowing my expiration date and feeling terrified of it. Is it worse to never know when the inevitable is about to sneak up on you or to know exactly where that bastard lurks?

Calmness drips over my mind and absorbs my emotions. For the first time in my life, my thoughts were quiet. They didn’t know what to say; the constant babble of words and phrases came to a screeching halt. “I’m sorry. You have approximately three months left to live. There’s nothing else we can do here.” Cue silence.

I pictured my grandparents, my aunt, and all the other deceased I still grieved for. I felt an unthought of yearning to be reunited with these people, and while I knew that plenty of lives would be destroyed by embracing my ultimate fear, picturing their faces made me smiling. Here I was, sitting in my doctor’s office after being told I was about to die in three months, with a grin on my goddamn face.

I gathered my bag and headed out the door. Outside of the building, the colors of the real world shocked me. Greens, blues, yellows, and reds stung my eyes. The wind tickled my neck and the roar of distant traffic seemed impossibly close. I felt my vision close off on the sides of my eyes and I saw myself standing on the sidewalk as if from above.

Reality came crashing down. I was going to mother fucking die. Soon. Me. Die. Forever. Never married, never having children, never finding true love, never getting my masters degree. All of my life goals suddenly became unobtainable dreams.

My knees buckled and my shaking hands desperately raked through my hair. My vision blurred with tears. I thought of my mother, my brothers, my father, my cousins, my friends. I didn’t have a boyfriend whose heart I was going to break, but there were enough others to go around. I don’t want this. I don’t want this. Please, someone. Please.

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