“I looked at her, puzzled. ‘Don’t be so dramatic. I’ll see you tomorrow at the house.’ Little did I know, these words were going to be our last. She decided to go out with a bang, turning what was supposed to be a joyous day into a painful one. She couldn’t bare to see me happy.”
‘On my wedding night, she grabbed me by the shoulders. ‘This will be the last time we see each other,’ she said, tears in her eyes. She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. There were so many red flags.’
‘Take your shirt off!’ Instead of helping her, they pointed or laughed. She said, ‘I don’t want him to feel how he made me feel.’
“Her spine was collapsing. Her ‘best friend’ no longer wanted to talk to her. She lost the ability to sit up, walk, or do anything herself.”
‘It was like bringing up a child to die.’ I still had no diagnosis. The nurse checked if my skin was salty to confirm her suspicions.’
“I was rushed to the hospital into intensive care. I was not expected to survive, but luck seemed to be on my side. The nurse who was caring for me suspected what it was – her daughter also had it.”
‘Doctors couldn’t figure out why I was so unlucky, they would tell my mom she was worried for nothing, kids my age are always sick. My mom knew something wasn’t right.’
“My mom noticed a hump on one side of my back but didn’t think anything of it. 3 weeks later the hump grew bigger.”
‘I don’t use makeup because I’m ashamed of my disease but because I feel entitled to not be defined by it.’
“It’s a way to distract myself and hide the raw emotions of my mental, emotional, and physical struggles. The power of makeup has been a nice reminder that through my suffering, the true me is still in there.”
‘Oscar was gone. In a moment of terror, I saw the leash in my hand led to the elevator door, which was already closed.’
“The elevator descended from three to ground. Oscar, inside the elevator, was pulled to the top of the door. I quickly pushed the elevator buttons, and prepared myself for the worst.”
