It was a long day at the warehouse, and my eyelids sagged with tiredness. Regardless, I was excited to see my gorgeous family.
As I pulled in the driveway, the sky lit a tinge of orange and pink. I was starving. Luckily, the fresh smell of food hit my nostrils the second I entered my home. I turned the corner to the kitchen to see Joey slaving away over a hot stove. Sweat caked his tanned skin as he stirred the boiling pot of spices and seasonings.
I put down my hat and keys lightly, tip-toeing across the tiled floor over to him. He was humming the tune of whatever that newest Disney movie the kids were watching nonstop. I immediately wrapped my arms around him, feeling his muscles flail in surprise.
“Ah! Neal!” he shrieked.
“I’m home!” I shouted with a smirk.
“I can see that! Give me a second dinner’s almost ready,” he said in concentration.
At the sound of my voice, I heard feet patter down the stairs. They stormed through the house toward the kitchen like a stampede of bulls. They charged around the corners and furniture faster than light speed. “Daddy’s home!” they cried out the whole way.
Rearing the corner, I expected to see the giddy faces of our beautiful children Maya and Peter. But I was met with a visage of shapes and objects in place of their faces. Picasso-esque paintings morphing and contorting in both fluid and rigid motions.
I felt lightheaded, they charged at me and knocked me over as if I was a half deconstructed jenga tower. I was weak at the thought of standing up.
As they pummeled me down, they quickly got up and all stood in shock, still as a forest of trees.
“Daddy I’m sorry,” said Maya. “Are you ok, Daddy?” said Peter.
Joey stopped stirring the pot the second my head hit the hard floor. He rushed to my crumpled body, tapping my face and talking to me. I didn’t understand a word he said. After a few minutes I started to regain composure, standing up and repeating to them that, “I’m fine, I’m fine,” before sitting down at the table.
“Are you sure, hon? You really hit your head back there,” Joey replied in concern.
“Yeah, just a long day at work, I suppose.”
“We didn’t mean to daddy,” Peter said in total remorse, eyeing the floor.
I just smiled at the two and rubbed their heads, their adorable faces cheering up immediately.
The pot began to sizzle as Joey flew to its rescue, determined to not burn it this time. He began to add his special touch to the dish and set up plates.
“Darling, I’m worried about you.”
“What do you mean? I’m fine I told you,” I said in response.
“I know, I know. But you’ve been off for a couple months. I can’t describe it, but sometimes you just seem so out of it,” he said with a frown. “You know how it is at the warehouse,” I told him.
“Yeah, but just don’t overwork yourself there. And are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you? What about those headaches? Is your hand still numb? I know my cooking hasn’t been the greatest on your stomach lately, but I’m trying my best and you still can’t even stomach it.”
“Joey, I’m fine,” I said with some irritation. “And your cooking is amazing, I told you it’s the heat.”
“Okay then,” he said, sliding the meals onto their respective plates. He was unsatisfied with the result of the conversation, but he knew I would probably open up after we ate. I was extremely hungry.
“Come on, kids! Dinner!” he yelled out. They ran to the table in excitement. “It smells so good!” Peter said. Damn was he right.
I started to pick at my food, my stomach roaring in hunger. “So, how was school today guys?” I asked the table.
“It was fun! Today in Mrs. Bettany’s class, we…”
I was about halfway through my portion, my stomach began turning and tossing like it were a washing machine. I felt every bite make its way down to my gut, and every bite closer to wanting to be done. It tasted amazing, spectacular, but I couldn’t eat another bite.
I felt the room spin and the lights flashing dimmer, my family looked like a masquerade of demons hungrily engulfing the poor feast in front of them. Gravity lifted up on itself as I planted to the floor.
The light came back to me. I was sitting in a hospital room with my Joey holding my hand. Dried tears colored his face. His black hair was raggedy as if he hadn’t slept or showered in years. He saw my eyes open and leapt to kiss me.
“I’m so happy you’re awake,” he whimpered to me.
“What’s going on? what happened?” I whispered in a weak, tired voice.
“You had a seizure,” he said with really grim eyes. “A seizure?” I asked in confusion. “I’ve never had one of those before.”
“The doctors did some tests, some scans. Neal you’ve got a tumor.”
His dim face matched mine. I was in utter disbelief. “Tumor?” I repeated. “Where?”
“It’s-“ he paused, holding the tears in his eyes. “It’s in your head.” “Like my brain?” I asked with a shaky voice. He was silent as he rubbed his face with his hands.
“Where’s the kids? Do they know?” I touched his hand. “I told them that you were sicker than we all thought, and that we might need to watch you more,” he said to me. My face was welled up with sorrow at the sight of him, I could tell he wasn’t taking this very well.
“I need to call work, I need to-“ he interrupted me. “I’ve called everyone that needs to know anything. What you need is to rest.”
“Okay,” I told him.
After a few weeks under the roof of the unwell and dying, the doctors finally let me out. When Joey wasn’t at work or taking care of the house, he was here right beside me. The kids would come too, but Maya didn’t quite grasp the concept of what was going on. Peter, however, remembered very vividly what the adoptive system was like, and the thought of one of his parents dying on him was more than he should be concerned about. He was quiet, and very upset. I didn’t like seeing him that way at all.
When I got out of the hospital, finally, things tried to go back to normal, but they were very clearly not. At my job, people were concerned about my ability to work. At home, my family was concerned about my ability to do anything. And most despicably, CPS was concerned about our ability to father our kids.
Don’t need to say much on how awful it was trying to start this family already, but they were stretching ideas to look for reasons. It was just one passive aggressive letter, and it sent me and Joey up the wall. This disease was hard enough on us all, and now it threatened to rip apart my family. Maya and Peter were my top concerns. I was desperate to look for anything to rip this thing out of my head.
I started looking, doing research. The chemo and treatments were barely scratching this damn thing. It was right in a place where the doctors couldn’t do surgery on it without turning me into a vegetable. I even tried some of that hippy herbal stuff with little help to our situation. None of the chakras in the world were doing anything to stop this tumor from growing.
Well, I was out at the store to buy some groceries with Joey. I was placed in charge of managing the list. We walked down the refrigerated aisle to find a nice carton of eggs for breakfast. By this point, the tumor was in me for four months, and growing above predicted pace. It wasn’t going to be long before being able to do this was out of the question, so I took the time to enjoy our dates and the outside.
While Joey was examining and scrutinizing eggs, I wandered over to the next couple aisles, just looking at all the products that I might want to try and watching the people that passed me by. I noticed out of the corner of my eye, a man standing by the bread section. He was tall, towering over above the shelves, and wore a nice suit. He was looking directly at me with no emotion on his face. He had very hollow eyes, a bald head, and as I passed by him, a cankerous smell.
I looked up at the man in confusion, raising an eyebrow at him. “Can I help you, man?”
“Can I help you?” he asked with a raspy, nasally voice. He wiped sweat from his pale head, even though it was rather cold in the store.
“Excuse me?” I asked politely in surprise and uncomfort.
“I-I apologize, sir, Neal? Is it? I read one of your posts looking for alternative cancer treatments, and, well, I just had to ask you in person.”
I uploaded a couple of posts to the internet, asking for some advice on my situation, but never did I give a location. “Uh, how exactly did you find me?”
“Oh I just tracked it,” he said nervously. “Look, do you wanna hear my proposition?”
“Proposition?” I asked.
“Okay, okay, I’m a licensed doctor, so trust me. I can do this treatment that removes the tumor completely, and all you need to do is show up. It’s experimental so there’s no charge to it,” he said in a giddy voice. He watched me intently in anticipation.
“Really? What exactly does the treatment entail?” I asked sounding a little desperate.
“Now there’s this effect called the- erm, plakebo effect, right.”
“The placebo effect?” I corrected.
“Yes! Sorry! Silly me! Well the placebo effect is where basically if I tell you what it is, it might not work! So I’m not allowed to do so for the treatment,” he explained.
“So you want me to take part in an ‘experimental treatment’ where I can’t be told what it is, and it’s completely free and there’s no possible drawbacks?” I said sarcastically.
“Well, when you say it out loud. Look, every patient we’ve tried it on has been cured so far. 100% success rate. No other treatment can get those numbers. And if you’re worried about sample size we’ve done it to thousands of patients.”
“Well what’s it called?” I asked.
“No real name for it yet, but I assure you it is genuine.”
I was baffled at his proposition. There was no credibility to this at all. It was like a Nigerian Prince scam, but with my body.
“This sounds so amazing, just a little too good to be true,” I told him.
“Well, okay, there is a small surgical maneuver we have to pull off that could cause some problems-“
Before he could finish I cut him off with a “Yeah, I’m gonna pass.” I’ve watched Deadpool.
As I walked back to my husband, I felt the man’s glassy eyes watching me from over the aisles. I never looked at him directly, but just in my peripheral vision I could see his face stretched into a smile, just standing in place. Watching me. We missed a couple items on the shopping list, but I had to get out of there.
I’d spent most of my days at home by this point. My job let me go, since most of the time I was calling out or too weak to do much. I was having difficulty thinking and remembering too. The tumor was moving too fast to watch my children grow up. My body was just waiting for the day to start rotting.
Joey had left the house and the kids were at school. I was all alone at home in my thoughts. I was still moving around, but it was better for me to rest in bed, so that’s what I did. It drives you crazy, though, just lying there waiting for the day your family has to watch you die. Especially with something in your head contorting how you think and what’s around you.
Maybe it was the tumor, maybe it was my solitary imagination, but I was sitting in my bed, watching TV and reading some horror stories on Reddit. Fell in love this one author, but he really needs to work out his endings. Sidetrack aside, I heard a knock on the front door. Curious as to whom it might be, I stretched my legs and approached it. As I looked out the window I saw a tall shadow blocking the sun. It stood eerily still.
I peered through the peephole, gazing into the open street where the figure should’ve blocked. I cracked the door open, feeling the cold breeze slide passed me. I opened the door further, seeing no one. “Hello?” I called out to no response. The bright sky shocked my eyes, so I shut the door and went back to bed. I’m used to auditory and visual hallucinations at this point, but from then on they only got worse and oddly more consistent.
Things would go bump in the night, people would stand in the mirror, but not be there. One time I had a whole conversation with Joey that never happened. All of these are just that, hallucinations.
My cancer had gotten to the point that Joey had to spend a lot of time with me. Seizures kept me from doing too much outside of watching the kids, though even then they were mostly watching me. It was sad to see Peter struggle with that. He watched his single father go through COVID, and I don’t need to draw the connection for you to see it. Even Maya was showing more signs of depression. I missed seeing their joy and content. When the kids weren’t at school, they watched me. When the kids weren’t there, Joey was. At least through this I could spend time with them all.
The kids were at school, and there was about a thirty minute block of time when nobody was home. We had a family friend coming over to help watch. It scared Joey, but I assured him I would be fine. I kissed my love goodbye, and wished him a good day at work. I heard him walk downstairs and close the front door. But something rather peculiar happened. The second he left, I heard his voice say, “Neal.”
It was right outside my room. My perceptions were too impaired to see the absolute horror in that situation, but I just wanted these hallucinations to go away, and the best way to do so is see it for yourself. To my surprise, I planted my feet on the carpet, walked my way to the bedroom door, and opened it. And looked up at the man from the store.
This time, he looked a little different. It’s hard to describe except to say he was rotting. His skin was a sickly brown. His eyes were dried and reddish. He was already bald, but it only added to the disgust of his cracked skin. He had yellow nails split and filled with dried blood.
“I asked nicely to preform the operation, but I appear to have run out of time, Neal.”
His voice was hoarse and weak. His breath held the pungent odor of maggots and rot.
“What do you mean?” I asked with a shaky breath.
“I need something from you, Neal. I’m hollow as a promise that said you were okay.”
“What do you want from me? My tumor?” I questioned with an angry, but melancholic whisper.
“I can take it from you, Neal,” he said, forcing a sinister grin.
With all my strength I tried to run away. I was shaking with fear and pain. Tears streamed down my face. I looked behind me to see the man rip open his flesh, leaving an empty, gaped hole in his torso. The man pulled his jaw open, revealing a creature made of an amalgamation of bones. Whatever skin it wore was only a mask.
I made my way to the stairs, tripping over the top one. I crawled to the bathroom, feeling the vibration of heavy steps behind me. I slammed shut the door.
Instead of bashing on the door, I heard the voices of my children. “Daddy! We’re home!” “Daddy come out! We want to see you!” They weren’t ringing through the house, just in my head like an implanted thought.
After a few minutes, the creature stopped trying to trick me. “Neal, I’m trying to help. I already have skin, bones, I just need your guts. Neal, I’m rotting away,” it pleaded. “Neal I know everything about you, I know your children, Neal.”
“Don’t touch them!” I cried from inside the bathroom. “Oh, but if they were really yours they’d get your condition too,” he said sticking a small hand made from bones under the door. “You know how Maya’s mother died, Neal?”
Before the monstrosity could finish, I sighed. “Shut up, just- shut up,” I closed my eyes, thinking of my husband and children. “If I have to die right now, you won’t kill them?” I asked it.
The body of bones told me, “No, I won’t, and you will not die.”
I didn’t quite trust it, but if it meant she could be spared from this. I opened the door.
I woke up once again in the hospital. Joey and the kids all in tears. “What- what’s-“ I said before they all jumped in horror, even the doctor.
“How the hell? Nurse!” he screamed, storming out of the room.
Joey, once again, leapt into my arms. “Neal! Oh my God!”
They were all laughing and crying in unison. They were all so happy. But I felt different.
“Neal! They said you died!” I clearly wasn’t, though. Right?
I noticed a high pitched humming sound ringing through the whole room. It filled the silence like a radiation. It was a heart monitor.
The doctor came back in, flipping papers on a clipboard like a madman. “Sir, we are beyond stumped.”
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong with me?” I cried, drowning out my family’s joy.
“Well you had another seizure, we think, this time fatal. All vital signs were dead. We even ran some tests to make sure and, well. It’s like your body isn’t there.”
“What?” Joey asked in confusion.
“We were gonna save this for later, but he shows no signs of blood flow, of respiration, nothing,” explained the doctor.
He proceeded to pull out an MRI, or what should be an MRI. It was like my head was hollow. It was like my whole body was hollow. I still kept my shape thanks to my bones, but no insides beyond that. I’m a real medical marvel, I guess. It’s like I just misplaced my insides, left them somewhere, but only I know where.
As Joey and the doctor went back and forth, Maya came up to my ear, cupping her hand and whispering, “Who’s that man in front of the door right there?”