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Gen Two- Chapter Thirty Three


I ran my fingers softly across the sill of the window and frowned at the subtle cold touch of the wood. The hospital did the absolute best it could to keep the heat in and the cold out, but it was impossible for them to make sure all of winter's chill remained where it belonged. The room could have been warmer if the blinds were closed, yet mom refused to block the window unless she was changing. It's not that I didn't get that desire. How many years had she been cooped up in this room for the majority of the time now? Restricting herself more from one of her few connections to the normal world wasn't a pleasant idea. However, I was tempted to go against her wishes for a moment. I truthfully doubted having the blinds closed would seriously make any improvements to mom's health, but it was not a lie to say I had been in a state of high paranoia for a few months.

Gen Two- Chapter Thirty Two


The gentle crashing of the ocean waves onto the shore in the not so distant distance sang their luring song to me, but I mentally sighed and resigned myself to the fact that there would definitely be no more ocean swimming this year. The temperatures were really beginning to drop both on land and in the water. Our heated pool would have to suffice. I was comfortable standing around in the open field near the beach. However, I had heard rumors that in maybe two or three weeks we would have snow on the ground. It would be a bit early in the season still for that, but knowing my hometown I didn't doubt a freak snowfall could occur. It was beyond me how Pastel wasn't freezing, but according to her and Citrine their own hometown was much colder overall than Berrybrook was.

     "Mom's been trooping on like always," I continued my report of how things were progressing in my life, "The radiation therapy actually hasn't been affecting her too badly. She caught a fever though, so her doctor decided to keep her at the hospital until it goes away just to make sure it doesn't develop into something awful. He gave us the news that he was hoping to see a bit more improvement with decreasing the tumor than what has been seen, but it's only been two weeks. His theory for how everything will play out is that the radiation will get rid of the majority of the tumor, but not all of it. However, the decrease of cancer should give mom more strength to recover enough of her health for a surgery to take care of the last of it."
     "That's seriously good news, Coal. It sounds like everything is going the best it can." Citrine replied encouragingly.

Gen Two- Chapter Thirty One


Those two solemn words mom spoke lingered painfully in the air. Her eyes darted this way and that, but never got higher than the floor. She waited for someone to say something, for someone to react, but I think the rest of us, at least I was, were waiting for her to keep going. To say it was just a joke. To reveal it actually wasn't that serious. When the silence dragged on until it grew suffocating, I looked to dad. There was no doubt by the stunned expression he wore that mom hadn't chosen to speak to him about this beforehand.

     "Lung cancer?"

Wisp was the brave one to break the tension. Even his soft voice boomed like thunder as the horror was that immense.

     "But..but that's something that only people who smoke and stuff get!" Cerise piped up, her words dripped with denial.
     "It's more common for them, but that's not necessarily true," mom countered gently, "All the horrible bouts of pneumonia I've had are what's done it. My lungs have been weakened so much, it was the right environment for the mutations to thrive.

Gen Two- Chapter Thirty


My whole body froze in an instant. The most movement I could get was out of my fingers, and even twitching them had them feeling like they creaked and popped. What I saw almost made me feel nauseated as everything came at me in both slow motion and quickened speed. I didn't dare turn my head or blink, for I had had this dream many times. It wouldn't be long before my alarm went off. That's how it always worked. My mind would give me the sweetest but briefest moment of relief, and reality would snatch it away just like that.

     "Oh, my baby girl..."

His voice gushed softly, but his words echoed with a boom in my ears. That was his voice. The one I'd almost forgotten. I latched onto the sound with fervor. Dad rarely spoke in my dreams, and if he did the words were practically inaudible. I would try and strain to hear, I would try and get closer, and that's when it would all end.