Better

I pick up the knife and look at my reflection.

She holds the pills in her shaking hand, and presses it to her chapped lips. This will make everything better.

He holds the rope tight in his grip, wraps it around and pulls.

My mom smiles at me from across the boat, asking for something sweet. I pick up the knife and look at my reflection. I pass her a piece of cake and a yellow container. She holds the pills in her shaking hand, and presses it to her chapped lips. “This will make everything better. Tia, I promise.” Tears sting my eyes as I watch her sip at her coffee.

“You’re gonna kick cancers ass mom.”

My father gives me a look that says "language", but my mom giggles.

He holds the rope tight in his grip, wraps it around and pulls. “All set to sail ladies.”
Mom laughs and dad kisses her cheek.

This will make everything better.