A Little Bit Of Joy | ✔

Chapter Six : The Friend Who Looked Pretty

I stared at my reflection, not a pleasant sight, I knew. Granted I had blonde hair and blue eyes, supposedly striking features, but it was really not. Even when I didn't have cancer, I wasn't considered pretty, maybe average or little above average [depending on how I dressed] because my eyebrows were light, my forehead a little wide and the tip of my nose so sharp that it could be used as a weapon to stab people. Now add cancer to this entire mixture of absurd genes, didn't fit, right? Definitely not.

I had no complaint about my eyes because they were fine, but over the years of battling cancer, my eyes definitely lost its sparkle. I had scanty eyelashes and a bit of hair on my head which barely reached to my neck [much better than when I was bald and roamed around with a queer wig on my head] and I had certainly gotten thin in all parts of my body, except my cheeks.

My chubby cheeks made my face look rounder and my nose sharper than ever. I had become so pale with no presence of the rosy colour in my cheeks or even blood circulation in my face and my entire body. The common symptoms of sleep deprivation [although I did sleep properly] were clearly and permanently present on my face like huge bags underneath my eyes. When I got used to being less attractive than before, it was fine, because most of us in my position would focus on staying healthy rather than looking pretty even though one of the reasons for depression after getting cancer in any normal teenager was because of change in appearance.

I applied a little blush to make myself look healthier and twirled around to see the pastel, pink dress swish against my thighs. I pulled up the square neckline of the dress in a foolish attempt to hide my protruding collarbones. The sleeveless dress was plain and it reached just above my knees as it was actually bought for my bit conservative mum who never wore dresses shorter than her knees. I pinned a white flower brooch just above my left breast and wore small pearl earrings.

I entered the kitchen when I could smell Nutella crêpe cooking and saw my mum standing by the stove. "Maa, it's five-thirty in the morning. A glass of milk or cereals would have been just fine, you needn't wake up this early to cook for me. I'll be fine."

"Exactly, it's five-thirty in the morning and you shouldn't get up so early to work at that shop. You would exert yourself, I have to talk to your grandpa about this," she said sternly and flipped the crêpe on the pan. "By the way, that dress looks good on you. Why don't you wear that silver necklace we got?"

"No, I don't want to look overdressed and maa, please don't talk to grandpa about my work hours. It's my choice and I want to do this, I really want to." I took the plate from her and added a dollop of whipped cream over the crêpe coated with Nutella. "And thanks for this."

"No problem," she muttered with a small smile, wiping the beads of sweat formed over her forehead with the back of her sleeve.

I sat by the table right outside the kitchen and dug in the delicious food. When I had almost finished with it and taken my medicines and painkillers, mum came running outside with another crêpe and it took me a lot of time to convince her in not eating another one because it became too sweet and heavy. I almost felt like puking it all out. I dashed outside before she could make more fuss over me and I heard her call, "You can take the car, no need to tire yourself by riding your cycle."

"It's okay maa, there's no parking there. Besides, you know how reckless my driving can be," I said with a laugh and quickly dragged my bicycle to sit on it. I carefully tucked the hem of my dress underneath my butt so it wouldn't fly while pedalling and started moving towards the shop. While I was nearing the shop, I noticed Logan with his backpack dangling crookedly on one arm, lumbering ahead.

"Hey, want a ride?" I asked, breathed deeply and he turned around. It was like I had caught him in a daze because he stared at me for a few seconds before tearing his gaze away from me and looking ahead. I patted the backseat and asked again, "Want to sit?"