It’s been a week now, I should have heard. I can’t believe they made me see a silly doctor anyway. I look fine. I feel fine. My rant was interrupted by the loud ringing of the home telephone. The woman’s calm but raspy voice says, “Sir, we have the results back from your blood work. I’m sorry to be the one to break the news to you, but you have cancer. We did not catch the cancer early. There is nothing we can do to cure or control the cancer. You are going to die. And you are going to die soon.”


I was unable to reply so I simply hung up the phone. The words spun in my head like a centrifuge. Cancer? Cancer? I can’t have cancer. I’ve never fallen in love. I’ve never smoked. I’ve never done drugs. I’m only twenty-seven years old. I’m not even thirty! I haven’t experienced life to its fullest potential. I’ve obviously never done anything to cause me to have cancer, but that is exactly what I am dying of.


Death, a word no one likes hearing, a word that most twenty-seven year olds don’t worry about personally. But I am not most twenty-seven year olds. I am going to die of cancer. I don’t know when. I don’t know where. All I know is that I am going to die soon. I really don’t want to die in public so I’ll spend the rest of my life at home, in my comfort zone. I’ll sleep, eat, relax, and try to enjoy the last days of my life.


The last two days I have done nothing but eat and watch television. The more I eat the sicker I feel. I can’t decide if it’s the cancer making me sick or my nerves. Although my television has been on, I can’t help but wonder about my afterlife. I hadn’t exactly earned my way into heaven. Did that mean I was going to hell?


I know I’m not the most religious person. And I haven’t always been the nicest person. In fact, in elementary school, I was the trouble maker. I would chase girls and pull their hair to aggravate them. In middle school, I was the prankster that would always have smart alec comments for my teachers and elders. In high school, I was the popular kid. I was quarterback for football and catcher for baseball. They nicknamed me the “Heartbreaker” because I had a new girlfriend every week. I never did any of my class assignments. I would always bully “nerds” into completing them for me. As an adult, I haven’t exactly fixed my ways and become a nicer person with a better personality and spirit. When I see a homeless person, I ignore them. If someone comes up to me for any kind of help I tell them to leave me alone because I don’t have time for them. However something I do more often than either of those is, at work as a stockbroker I steal and mishandle people’s money. So I guess if you were to say I was a mean, ungrateful, and selfish person, you would be correct.


Maybe karma was real. Maybe that is why I have cancer. I obviously have never been a kind person, so maybe this is my last opportunity to change my name and reputation. But how was I supposed to undo twenty-seven years of my past and convince everyone I have hurt that I’ve changed for the better? I will start where my ways originated. I will start by apologizing to the main people I hurt in school.


I looked through each yearbook dating all the way back to first grade. I start to look each person whom I had bullied up online. They all lived about an hour away in Orlando. I called each person and scheduled an appointment to meet them at the local library in an hour and a half to discuss the past.


After hanging up my phone, I hurried and got dressed. I put on my baby blue polo shirt and a pair of black slacks. I then made my way to my silver 2013 Dodge Ram 4x4 truck. It took me exactly one hour to drive from my house in Tampa Bay to Orlando due to the rush hour traffic. I waited about ten minutes when the people I hadn’t seen in what felt like ages had arrived. They all stared at me. Did they know I had cancer? Was it obvious? I hadn’t told anyone about the news yet. As far as I know I was the only person outside of the doctors, nurses, and lab workers that knew.


They took a seat around the long rectangular table. Drue Fletcher finally asked, “What are we doing here? We haven’t seen you in such a long time. You have never wanted anything to with us before. Why do you need us now?” Her words stabbed my heart like an old rotten dagger into the chest. Had I really hurt them that much? All I did was tease them some. I knew that I had to make this right. “I called all of you here because I have an announcement to make. I would like to begin by saying I am very sorry for all the pain and stress I put each and every one of you through. I was stupid, selfish, and self-centered at the time and I am deeply ashamed of my actions. I was then interrupted by Brock Phillips who said, “You still haven’t told us why you changed your mind. You are a rich and successful stockbroker. You don’t have any homework to make us do. So what made you think of us? Why should we honestly believe that you have changed? For all we know this is just another one of your pranks.” This obviously wasn’t going as well as I had hoped. I guess to make them understand I would have to tell them about the secret that had changed my life, personality, and outlook forever.

“I was diagnosed with cancer a couple of days ago. They didn’t catch it early therefor it is not treatable. I am expected to die any day, hour, or minute from now.” Their mouths dropped open. A few people muttered quiet apologies and condolences. Finally after about five minutes of silence Drue spoke again. “I’m sorry that you have cancer. I really truly am. But you dying cannot excuse your actions. If it wasn’t for your bad luck and misfortune, you would have never called us here today.”

I knew I had to do something to show them how truly sorry I was. I reached for my checkbook and started writing each person a check for two hundred fifty dollars. I handed all eighteen people the checks. “I am really sorry for the way I treated each of you. To show my change of heart, I am giving each of you a check for two hundred fifty dollars. I know this doesn’t change or make what I did better, but I hope this proves I am trying to become a better person.” They all looked at each other, then at me and smiled. I could tell in their eyes that they appreciated the gift and apology. One by one they then came up to me and either shook my hand or hugged me while saying “Apology accepted.”

After watching everyone exit the room, I had peace in knowing I was able to make all of those problems right. It was about 3:00 in the afternoon so I decided to drive home for the night. Traffic was cooperative so I was home in forty five minutes. It had been a long day so I simply made myself a ham and cheese sandwich took a shower, and went straight to bed.

I woke up at 8:30 in the morning. You would think I would feel great and free now that I was forgiven by all the people I hurt in school, but I still feel guilty. I still had a Mustang, a new truck, a nice house, and a lot of money. I decided that I would raise money for my former high school and the local homeless shelter. But how was I supposed to raise so much money in a short amount of time? After all, it has been four days since the nurse called me.

I was getting dressed when I realized the perfect way for me to raise a substantial amount of money. I could sell my vehicles. What was dead person going to do with a nice truck and car anyways?

I made my way to my truck and started to load my Mustang on a trailer pulled by my truck. After the Mustang was safely on the trailer I started to drive to Community Motors, the local car dealership. When I arrived I was greeted by a polite salesman. I explained that I wanted to sell them my truck and Mustang and wanted cash for the vehicles today. They offered me $20,000 for my truck since it didn’t have many miles and was only two months old. They gave me $25,000 for my Mustang since it was a limited edition sports car. I let them keep the trailer as a gift since I no longer needed it. After thanking them for their business I called a taxi and went to the bank. I deposited the 45 thousand dollars into my bank account then ordered the driver to take me to the closest homeless shelter.

The old brick building came into view. I paid the taxi driver and made my way inside. I looked around. There were so many people all in the same small building. After walking around I asked to speak to an owner or manager. “Hello. I’m Jake. I’m the manager here.” “Hi, I’m Isaiah. I would like to donate money to help out around here.” “Okay. We would appreciate that. How much are you giving?” “I was thinking 22,500 dollars.” Jake’s eyes got real wide. You could tell he was extremely shocked. “You want to donate over 22 thousand dollars here? I mean we would greatly appreciate the money, but we normally don’t receive donations that large.” Jake stuttered. I replied by saying, “I understand and yes I would like to give exactly 22,500 dollars. I want to give back to the community. Here’s the check.” He stared at the check for a minute. He then shook my hand and said, “Thank you so very much! This will go a long way with helping the shelter!” “You’re very welcome!” I then exited the shelter and called for another taxi.

The taxi driver took me to my old high school. I looked around. I can’t believe it’s been nine years since I graduated here. I made my way to the office when the secretary called my name. “Isaiah, honey, what are you doing here?” “I am here to donate money actually.” “Oh honey you don’t have to do that.” “I would like to though. I was able to raise a substantial amount of money and decided to give half to the homeless shelter and half here.” “Well thanks. How much exactly are you wanting to donate? I need to fill this form out.” “I am donating 22,500 dollars.” Mrs. Louise looked at me with the same eyes Jake did just an hour before. “Did I hear you correctly? Did you say 22,500 dollars?” “Yes ma’am. I was able to raise a lot of money.” “Okay. Well we greatly appreciate the support. Schools can always the extra money.” “You are very welcome. You and this school helped me become who I am today. You all stuck with me when I was a jerk. And I wanted to show my appreciation.” “Well it’s our job to be here for our students. I’m proud to see that you have had a change in heart and have drastically changed for the better.” “Well thank you. Bye now.” I said as I walked out the office door. This was the last time I would ever walk through the doors of this school. It was a very bittersweet moment.

By now I should have almost earned my way into heaven. I sold both of my vehicles. The only thing I have left to do is return the money I stole from my clients at work. I looked down at my watch. It read 11:00 am. It was still morning. I still had plenty of time to run by my office and make the rest of my mistakes right. I called a taxi once again. A couple of minutes later it arrived and I got in. I told the driver where I was needing to go. It was about a 15 minute ride to the office.

When we arrived I paid the driver then headed into the building. I made my way to my office and turned on my computer. When I was logged in and it was fully loaded, I created a document apologizing for stealing money. After I was finished, I pulled up my client list and sent a 100 dollar check to each client. Even if I didn’t steal money from them I sent a check, thanking them for their business. I put the large stack of envelopes in the mail bin. I balanced my check book. I have 50 dollars left, just enough to pay a taxi driver to take me home. Before I go home, I have one last thing to do and take care of.

I walked to the secretary’s desk. I asked, “Where is Mr. Jones?” “He is in his office. He doesn’t have a client so you are free to walk in.” I left the secretary’s desk and walked outside my boss’s office. I was about to make the last decision in order to make my life right. I was about to quit, that way the company won’t be held reliable for me confessing about stealing money from the clients. I make my way into the office. I explained everything to him. He was furious, but he seemed to be a bit relieved when I turned in my keys and said, “I quit.”

I made my way out of the building and saw a taxi. I waved it down and went home. I spent the last bit of my money on the ride home. I am now officially broke. I don’t have a penny to my name. I went inside my house and went to bed. I was now ready to die. I took care of all the business I needed to. I no longer have anything to live for.

I woke up the next morning. I’m sickened. I’m so confused. I’ve always thought of suicide as a cowardly action, but it’s the only option now. After all, it has been a week since I received the phone call. I got out a piece of paper and a pen. I began writing a note:

Whoever is to find my note is not far from my body. I was diagnosed with cancer by Doctor William Jackson and was told I didn’t have much longer to live. I gave up my everything to try to earn my way into heaven and out of hell. I honestly believe I have succeeded and now I have no other reason to live.

I stopped writing and headed into my bedroom. I picked out my favorite white and red striped Polo shirt and black slacks. I then headed into my bathroom to take a shower. After I was finished with my shower and getting dressed, I went back into my bedroom. I walked into my closet and opened my gun cabinet. I pulled out a gun. I walked back into the living room and placed the note on the end table. Then I placed the gun to my head. I slowly pulled the trigger. I fell to the ground. The last thing I saw was my note on the end table. Then it all went blank.


Afterward

I went to his house to see why he wasn’t answering my phone calls or text messages. It wasn’t like Isaiah to ignore his own mother. I unlocked the front door with the spare key hidden underneath the doormat. I unlocked the door. I slowly opened the door and began screaming for my son. I got no answer. Then I went into the living room and saw the thing no parent ever wants to see, their baby lying on the floor helpless and cold. I called 911 immediately. While waiting for the ambulance to arrive I read his letter and began to cry.

At the hospital, they ran what felt like hundreds of tests on him. Finally after hours of waiting the doctor’s news came as a sick joke. One of those twisted good news, bad news scenarios; the bullet missed all important areas of the brain but would leave him at the mercy and care of others for the rest of his days. The good news was the cancer diagnoses was wrong.