Maybe It's Real

My Parent's always read to me before bed. As my mom tucked me into the pink sheets, dad would flick on the white lamp that rested on my nightstand. They would both sit on my bed and ask me what story they should read.

I would say to them,"Make one up!" That was always the answer. Always.

Daddy would chuckle and ruffle my hair, and mommy would smile.

My favorite story was one of the last. It was about a girl named Beth who fell in love with a boy named Roy. Only then, when I was dozing off that night, did I realize those names belonged to my parents.

But in the story, Roy was sick.

He had cancer.

I almost objected to hearing this story because it would be too sad. Mommy reassured me it would be happy.

So I listened.

They said it was love at first sight. They said Beth and Roy were inseprable. When Beth was there, so was Roy. One day though, Roy went to the doctors and was diagnosed with lung cancer because he smoked all of the time. Roy didn't know how to tell Beth.

So he waited.

But he had to tell her.

When Beth found out, she never left his side. Every night, when Roy was in the hospital, Beth would be there, holding his hand.

But then, Roy became very sick. Beth wasn't allowed to see Roy. She was broken hearted. Without Roy, she had nothing. People constantly said Roy had no chance of living. The cancer was hurting too much, defeating Roy in the Battle of life.

Roy lived, they told me. They both had smiles that touched their ears when they said this.

Years later though, I had to learn that my dad had cancer when he was younge, just like Roy. Before I was born. Before Melody.

I had to learn the hard way that stories don't always have happy endings.

The cancer came back. My dad lost.