Lemar-Aftaab Oct-Dec. 1997 - Articles - Lost to Cancer

Lost to Cancer

By Mahtaab Shabzad

I awoke to a nightmare as I heard a scream and a shout. I could only see the dim light of the hall peaking into my room, and aside from the cries , I could hear the thunder roaring and the rain pouring onto the solid ground outside. I ran to the hall. On my way down, I slid my hands on the side of the wall so I wouldn't fall. I flicked on the light at the top of the stairs. I came downstairs to see my father's sister-in-law and my mother sitting on the sofa. Both were crying and screaming in pain and misery. I took a long unforgettable gaze and a deep breath. I looked back, turned around, and came back to my room; I stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do. I closed my eyes and slowly opened them again. Still in horror, a painful feeling of relief came over me as my instincts told me that the contemptible disease of cancer had finally put my aunt to rest.

When my mother came upstairs to try to comfort me, I didn't speak a word. I stood as stubborn as ever and thought back on the last time I saw my dear aunt. I remember her wearing a white scarf around her hair; I was standing behind my father, and she told my father to move. As my father moved, I could see her pale face looking at me, and I heard her say how much she loved me. As I left her home that day, something inside of me told me to go back in and kiss her good-bye, but I did not.

"Mahtaab!" My mother shook me in frustration, "This is not the time to play games, get dressed we must leave" , she said.

I immediately got dressed. I went downstairs once more and went out the door. On our way to my aunts house, I didn't know what to expect. A part of me was wishing that al l this was a lie and that she was still alive, but another part of me was hoping that it wasn't a lie and her pain was over. We reached her home, I saw men outside the door. As I walked into the house, I could see woman in scarves and dressed in black weeping. I went straight to her room. She laid there like an angel. She was covered with a white sheet. I took her hand into mine, I held it against my face; it was so cold and so pale. I vaguely remember what happened, but I remember the lump in my throat fighting back my tears.

I turned around and saw her three year old daughter looking at me. I quickly ran to her letting go of my aunts hand. I took her into a room away from the crying. Without my knowledge, her other daughter whom I was close to followed me into the room. I let go of the baby and hugged my other cousin who was crying and trying to talk but having much difficulty getting her words out. I looked into her eyes, her tears crawled out and went down her face, and her lips were red and shivering. I told her it would be okay and I would be there for her. Little did I know that I had lied to her and this would be the last time I ever would see her. I took her hand and hugged her and took my other little cousin in my arms. My father came into the room and told me it was time to go home. I let go of her hand, she was struggling for me to stay. I looked into her gaze, and I stood like a cold stone. I walked away from her without turning back on her cries for me to stay.

I reached the door. My father called me, and I took one quick look back. I ran to my cousin, held her in my arms again and said good-bye. It felt like it was my last good-bye, now I'm wondering if it was. I turned back, having the sensation of my aunt’s cold hand on my face. I closed the door and left the house. On that day, I did not lose one close person to me, I lost four.

Within five months, the father of my cousins remarried. He wanted to move on with his life. So he cut off all contact from us. I had wished that my father would take me into their home, and let me see my cousins. It never happened. I tried to get in touch with them through a counselor in school, but they weren't permitted to see me. I did everything in my power to see them once more, but I failed time and time again.

It has been three years now. Every year my wounds open up more, everyday I lose more hope. Sometimes I see people who look similar to my cousins, and I run up to them in hope that it will be them. But their not. I wonder if I'll ever see them again.

Uncertain, I sit wondering if they will even remember me. As my love for them grows stronger, I think theirs has grown weaker. I wonder what has happened to my cousins. I should have cherished every moment I spent with my aunt and her children. Now I have a hollow feeling of emptiness and guilt inside of me. “What have I done?”, is my question. I keep asking myself, “Why?” I have not reached an answer, and I don't know if I ever will.