Today is a Good Day

This journal entry is completely fictional as are the characters and scenarios depicted. It is based off of the short story “The Michele I Know” by Alison Lohans. It is a response to what happens afterwards to one of the characters.  If you want to read this story, go to this link:


Rob’s Journal

May 3, 2012

Today was Michelle’s funeral.  I hated today.  I hate that I knew Michelle. If I didn’t know her I wouldn’t be sad right now   I hate that Michelle had to die.  We all thought that when she was on remission, that this hell would be over, but I guess not.  Why did she die?  She had been free of cancer for 6 months.  We were back together.  No more awkwardness, just me and her, no stupid cancer between us.  This would be easier if we’d of never met.  It wasn’t her fault.  It was the stupid cancers fault.  Why can’t things be back to the way they used to be?  She’d come to my football games, we’d hang out for hours, we’d be a couple.  Not anymore.

They asked me to give a eulogy or something like that. I said no.  Why the heck did I say no?  Why’d they ask me in the first place?  It’s not like we had anything in common.   We were in love, I think.  I was in love.  I thought things would be fine by now.  The cancer would be gone, and my Michelle would be back.  Even if she didn’t have hair.  I hate myself for not seeing her more.  I hate her!  I hate the cancer that took her from me.  Why can’t I have a normal life?  I don’t want to be one of those dweebs they interview on Oprah who cry for an hour after their girl dies.  Why couldn’t I just meet a girl and be with her forever?  Everybody does it.  I’d have a normal life if I’d never of met Michele.   I’d have a normal life if Michele never got cancer.

Everybody won’t leave me alone.  The teachers pity me, the principal keeps talking to me, and the stupid counselor won’t leave me alone, and half the class tears up when they see me.  My life shouldn’t be this.  If it weren’t for Michele it wouldn’t be like this.  If it weren’t for Michele’s cancer, my life wouldn’t be like this.  Nobody gets it.  Maybe her parents, or that guy down the street who’s sister died of some disease or anybody else who had really lost somebody to a disease.  Not just knew them, but knew them as a person.  What they liked, their favorite animal, what made them cry.  My friends don’t get it.  The teachers absolutely don’t get it.  They lie and say they do, but they don’t.

People get over this crap, but how.  The counselor what’s-her-face says it’ll be easier if I talk.  Talk about what?  She wouldn’t care.  I’m not that stupid.  She’d sit in a chair and just nod every once in a while.  Stupid cancer.

Why did Michele die?  She didn’t do anything wrong but be an angel.  She was perfect.  Maybe God is punishing me?  I don’t go to church, but does that mean I’m damned or something like that?  Is that a reason to kill somebody?  Because of my life?  Maybe things are better this way.  Maybe she is better dead. She should be alive.  Alive and with me and her family and her friends.  Not in the ground.  The funeral was nice and all, but that’s all.  There wasn’t anything about who she was; only that she was dead. Dead because of stupid cancer.  Why can’t the doctors do something?  Where does all that money go that we fundraise?  Why didn’t Michele try harder?  Michele was defenseless.  The cancer took her.  Took her from me. Why!

August 15th, 2012

I didn’t graduate.  My marks were crap anyways. I quit the football team a week after the funeral, and I dropped a few classes.  One month later the teachers started to stop pitying me.  Two months later I dropped out.  My parents are mad, but they don’t get it.  Nobody does.  Michele wrecked my life. Michele’s cancer wrecked my life.  Today I’m staying home, again.  That’s all I do lately.  I’d be a sight to see if I ever left.  My hairs grown out and I’ve gain 15 pounds.  Or was it 16.  I only leave to get food when I’m out and to hang out with the gang.  I met them about a month after Michele died.  They understand, especially Rick.  He’s never met anybody who had cancer, but he just gets it.  He dropped out of school 3 years ago.  I got to call him one of these days.  He cares about me and what I’m going through.  He does some drugs, but I really don’t care.  He’s happy, and I’m happy, I guess.

My dad is trying to get me to go back to school this fall.  That’s likely.  Who needs school anyways?  Rick and the gang have their own business of some sort, and they’re making a lot of cash.  I’m not sure what kind of business it is, but if it pays good, than who cares?  And why should I go back to school?  I’ve been through crap; I’ve lost my girlfriend for Pete’s sake.  I should get a break.  I’m 19 years old; I still have my life ahead of me.

I hate this house.  I got to get out, but I have nothing to do.  I don’t want to do anything.  It’s all because of Michele. It’s all because of Michele’s cancer.  Stupid cancer.  I haven’t talked to anybody about the whole cancer stuff except for Rick.  My parents are worried, but they don’t understand.  They don’t care.  I really don’t care anymore.  All I really cared about before was Michele and football.  Now both are gone. I loved Michele.  Then she got cancer, which I hated. I hate her! I hate the cancer that took her from me. Today is a bad day. Any day that I remember Michele is a bad day.

January 13, 2013

I found out what Rick and the gangs business was about a month ago.  He’s been selling crack for about a year now.  At first I wasn’t that cool with it, but then I tried it.  I forgot everything.  I forgot about Michele, and her cancer, and the hospital, and football, and my parents, and this hole that I’ve dug my life into.  It was all gone.  I forgot about my pain.  My parents don’t know.  I told them that I’m doing some extra courses online to get some credits or something like that, but I’ve just been doing stuff.  It’s not like they care.

Michele has been dead for at least a year now, and I’ve accepted what happened.  She’s dead, and I’m dead to the world.  Everything is pretty much good, especially now with my new best friend.  The bad part of these good days is that it doesn’t last long.  I remember about half an hour after I’ve forgotten.  Luckily my college fund is full.  I can keep on forgetting.  Thank God.  When I think about it, I really could turn my life around, but what would be the point?  Michele had the best marks in our class, she was captain of the cheer squad, and she was mine.  But she’s dead.  God didn’t save her, or whatever it is that our neighbor is always trying to talk to me about.  She’s dead.  If her great life didn’t save her, how is it going to save me?  We’re all going to die in the end anyways.  What’s the point in creating a life where you succeed when it’s all going to go to waste anyways?  Michele’s gone, and I’m trying to forget.

Rick just walked in.  He’s got some more stuff.  Today is a good day.  Any day that I forget is a good day.