My daughter was 4 when she got sick, and doctors first used the word "Cancer".
She was 5 when her hair fell out and stayed out and doctors used the word "inoperable".
She was one month shy of her 6th birthday when she coughed up blood, and doctors used the words "palliative care".
It was only three days after that my Megan died.
Her mother left me two months after Megan's death. Losing Megan was like living in a waking nightmare, day in, day out. I'm sure I didn't make it any easier. I drank a lot. I just wanted to sleep. In my dreams Megan was alive. She could play, dance, and had hair. She never heard of Cancer, and never slept in a hospital.
I spent my days watching old videos. It was during one of those moments alone with my memories that I first thought of it. An old memory of Megan and I. It was a few months after we found out she had Cancer. She was scared, and so I lay beside her and told her stories to ease her fears. She asked, "Am I gonna die?"
I had never let that thought enter my mind until she said the words. I fought back tears, and told her no.
"What if I do?" She asked.
"Then I'll go to Heaven and have a talk with God." I told her.
"No, daddy. God doesn't let us die." She said matter of factly.
"Oh yea? Who does?" I asked.
"The devil." She said, whispering the word.
"Well," I said, "then I'll go to hell and storm the gates. I'll have a word with that devil and make him regret it!"
I had only been trying to make her laugh at the time, she was so sick, and didn't need to be thinking about death.
So that was it. A promise to my kid, made just to make her smile, with no real thought behind it. But Megan believed it.
I promised my kid I'd storm the gates of hell and fight the devil himself, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do.
It was two weeks ago since I started. Up until then, I hadn't so much as stolen a piece of gum.
But now I'm ready. Ready to keep my promise to my kid. This razor in my hand should take me out, and if those bodies I stacked in the corner of my room doesn't get me there then I'm sure what I did to old Mrs Norris sure will.
I'd say I'm sorry for what I've done, but I won't risk losing my place in hell. I've worked too hard to guarantee my admission.
I've got to have a word with the devil and I don't plan to say all that much.
If I make it out afterwards, I'll storm the gates of heaven and see my Megan.
I smile as I bring the razor to my wrist. It doesn't even hurt.
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