Paperlife.

"Believe"

Another day...Another hard day of ridicule. The bell had rung and his time here was up. Inside he was glowing in jubilee was because he know longer had to be here, he no longer had to hear another jeer. Or even receive another unnecessary leer from a passing person.

He stepped out of the room with his backpack straddled over his shoulders, it was heavy. But, not as heavy as the stress and worry was, the stress and worry that weighed him down day by day. He walked towards the gate, head down. Avoiding attention and looks from anyone, anyone that was around him. All he wanted to do was escape the battlefields. His shoes stepping over the glowing reflective bright light sidewalk concrete out towards a gate where his mother was waiting in a car.

Free at last he was from the torment of his fellow students, but free overall he was not. Going home wasn't the sanctuary it could have been. He'd leave to school every morning seeing his mother not who she used to be. Every morning, looking frailer and weaker. Yet every morning, she would hide her pain, and smile forcefully, wishing him well for the day. Lying the same way he did when he got home and said he had a "good day".

He opened the door and sat in the car, her face stressed, her lips pressed. Her shades were on, as a subtle way to cover her disarray. He turned to her...wondering what was wrong. Pulling out of the campus parking lot was intense silence. As they entered the street, the silence broke.

"How was your day?" She murmured as gracefully as she could through the stress in her voice.

"It was good," He replied. Lying through his teeth, as usual. It was at this moment, he'd receive the conversation he'd never forget.

"Well...I have something to tell you."

"What's wrong."

"It's hard for me to say, I'm still trying to figure out a way to tell you myself still..."

He stared deeply.

"I finally got my answers."

"What answers?"

"Well, I went to the doctor today. A specialist, and...they ran some tests. Things...things came out positive. Everything makes sense now."

Her voice wanted to break but she was clenching the wheel of the car for strength.

"What did they tell you?"

"'Mama is sick. I have a rare autoimmune disease, it's incurable and..."

His world faded color to almost a greyscale. he was looking at her, he was seeing her lips moving, vocalizing everything. However, every word was muted, everything was slowing down with the world's volumes at zero. He heard of the instances where people's parents get sick. Never had he thought the instances would hit home. Never. We as children and young adults build this facade that our parents are invincible and will always be there. Usually, we don't come to realize this until we are older. Not innocent youth, not innocent youth like him.

She was still talking, and he was still hearing nothing but muffled sentences that were muffled because of his ongoing internal mess of ponder. More worry...

They arrived home.

She parked the car, turned the key and sat there. Some tears had rolled down from the pitch black shades and lenses she wore. She pulled herself together.

"But I'm gonna get through this. I promise you and your brother. I have to fight this, so I can see you both grow older, and graduate, and bless me with grandchildren...I have to live for you guys. We just have to believe. We have to believe in getting through this."

He felt the rivers wanting to run, but the dam that was the strength in his heart, prevented so from happening. He placed his hand on hers, looking down. She stopped crying. His world resaturated in color. Under all the sorrow, somehow he was positive she, and his family were going to be okay.