My Short Story Collection

 They were all there, Mom,    Jenny, and even Dad. "I'm so happy we can all be here," Johnny thought. It was midnight Mass at St. Vincent of the Cross. It was sparsely populated, with some regulars and some holiday worshippers, and Johnny and his family in the back, so to not draw attention to themselves. They didn't come often, and Johnny's Dad wanted to avoid the Priest. Dad had finally agreed to Mom's earnest pleas to be a "family," at least for Christmas. He begrudgingly came along. Hating it the whole it, hating her for making him come. He hated that Priest. The Priest had cornered him a few times, asking him questions; too many questions for his liking. The Priest was invading his personal space.  Was Mom putting him up to this? He grew suspicious. He didn't need this place. He was fine, just how he was. The last thing he needed was some good-for-nothing Priest telling him what to do and how to live his life. Candles were passed down each...

Erik entered the main floor lobby and asked for directions. The attendant told him, “Off to the right.” Erik took a few steps and saw it in bright silver letters: Cancer Center. He stopped dead in his tracks. "I have cancer." The thought passed through his mind again, "I have cancer.” As tears formed in his eyes, and a lump formed in his throat, he took a deep breath, collected himself, and opened the door to his new world. Time would tell a different story. A few years later, visit after visit, Erik passed these doors, each time he dreaded the sight of those letters, staring back at him, laughing at him, overpowering him. Erik held no cards; he was losing this game of chance, but he was fighting - an uphill battle. He told himself today would be different. Erik was sticking to his new diet, eating healthy, walking the dog daily, and trying to stay fit—all in an attempt to keep the cancer at bay. Fighting for one more day, for one chance at a normal life. It didn't m...