The sun burns my eyes the moment I slide them open. I roll over into my pillow, sticking my hand out and fumbling to untie the curtains. My room has changed more than perhaps anything else in the house. It’s empty, stripped clean. Mum said that someone’s going to come later today with my clothes and stuff, but still, it won’t be the same. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t let me pack my stuff from school before I came home. I think she just wanted to get away from Marya, to feel like I’m hers and hers alone.

I run my fingers along the frame of my bed and stand up slowly, going to the window and staring down at the yard. It’s still early, mist covers the window, but I can see the shapes of the old swing, swaying gently in the morning air. And there are the plastic gnomes again, their smiles too big to actually be real. I stand up and fling open the door.

The lights are off, Mum must still be asleep. I stalk down the steps, flicking the lights on and plopping down on the couch. I need to get away, need to be anywhere but here, so I fumble with the remote and turn on the television, sighing and sitting back when some dumb kids cartoon comes on. I hum the songs lightly to myself, fixing my eyes on the screen and forcing myself to watch the characters, to pay attention to the story.

I wonder what it will feel like to die. Will my life ‘flash before my eyes’ like they say in stories? Will I remember all of the happy moments, or only the sad ones? Or will I remember anything at all? Will it be a slow fading feeling, or will it be like the lights suddenly go out and I know that they’ll never come back on?

A shiver slowly settles over my body, I glue my eyes to the screen and don’t look away. “It’s okay,” I say softly to myself, rubbing my hands up my arms to warm them. “It’s okay.”

My hands are restless to be doing something. I shake off my slippers and lay them on the ground besides me, taking just a few seconds too long to arrange them next to the wall. I click the volume button slowly up, and let the loud singing blare in my ears before finally turning it down again. It may wake up Mum, but I don’t care. Let her see me try.

I close my eyes and give a small smile, but it is just as fake as the idiot gnomes staring at the sky from the yard. I don’t know why I hate those gnomes so much, but I do. When Marya and I first met in seventh grade, we would sit outside and throw stones at the gnomes, trying to knock them over. Somehow we both found that funny. But then Mum, who had been drinking a lot that day, grabbed Marya by the ear and dragged her out yelling about her gnomes, and after that Marya never came to my house. It’s dumb, I know, but somehow I hate looking at those gnomes and thinking of the constant fight over me that goes on between Mum and Marya.

But the gnomes aren’t what matter now. Right now, the only thing that matters is about is the television, and the wonky dance that I’m supposed to be copying. I force myself to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but there’s nothing funny about it.

“Good morning,” I hear from the doorway, and my hand shoots to the pause button. I manage to twist my lips up into a smile, and look up at her.

“You’re watching Barney,” she cries loudly, her mouth open in obvious surprise. “That’s stupid. What kind of a seventeen year old girl watches Barney?”

I don’t even know anymore. I just needed something to think about, something other than what was coming. But I couldn’t shut it out, no one can shut out death, it’s coming for me, every second it’s coming nearer. It’s going to destroy me. But I don’t say so.

“What is that, something that Marya watches?” Her voice is dripping with bitterness. “She’s a freak, Alyssa, I don’t know how she’s still stuck in the past watching this junk-” she gestures blandly at the television- “but my daughter is not going to waste her time watching Barney.”

“This isn’t about Marya,” I say furiously, my heart thumping wildly against my chest. “None of this is about Marya, forget Marya, this is about me.”

She grimaces, her face twisting, and bangs herself down onto the couch next to me. “I do not take yelling in my house, Alyssa,” she says fiercely. “I’m sorry about your condition, but just because you’re special now doesn’t give you the right to speak harshly to me.”

My face blanches, I double over, feeling like I’ve been slapped. My cheeks are burning, I stand up stiffly and walk towards the kitchen, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing my face. “I’ll make breakfast,” I say under my breath.

“Good girl.”

“Do you want eggs?”

“And bacon.”

I stalk into the kitchen and scan the room for the eggs. They’re just where she’s always keeps them, on top of the microwave. I narrow my eyes, running towards them and snatching one of them, running my fingers over the smooth round surface. There is already a pan on the stove, so I knock the egg against the counter, watching in silence as the hideous cracks sneak up the sides. I plunge my finger into the shell, and rip the egg open, letting the slimy yoke fall down onto the pan.

“Two eggs, right?” I call.

I hear her voice right behind me, and I give a startled jump. “I eat three now. And make some for yourself too, if you will.”

“Sure,” I say, struggling to keep my voice calm. I grab another egg and crack it into the pan.

“Thanks,” she says heavily, and I hear her bend over me, her hot breath on the back of my neck. “You’ve been a good daughter, Alyssa.”

I fight to keep from grimacing, keeping my head down and dumping one more egg into the pain. “I’m not dead yet, Mum.” I don’t look up to see her answer, just grabbing the spatula and tossing the eggs around the pan.

“Obviously.”

I stop stirring, holding my spatula midair, and turn around to face her, keeping my hand rested against the front of the stove. “What is going to happen today? What are you planning to do?”

She puckers her lips together and raises her eyebrows like it’s obvious. My heart spins inside me, I drop my head, hardly daring to breathe. It seems like forever until she responds, her thin lips slowly drifting together to form a word. “I’m going to work.”

The spatula clatters to the floor, all words die off my lips. I don’t know why I didn’t expect this, didn’t know it was coming, but it was there all along. Mum had never brought me home to spend time with me, never brought me home because she cared about me enough to be with me on my last days. No, she had brought me here and then left me. To me, everything has changed, but to her, nothing has. Misery crashes over me, I shake my head slowly, falling back into the stove and yanking my hand away before I burn myself. “You’re going...to work,” I say with a shake of my head. It’s not a question, just a statement. We both know the answer.

“Alyssa, I need this job. Please don’t try to get in the way of this.”

“I won’t,” I say quickly, bending down and grabbing the spatula, gripping it between my thumb and forefinger. “I won’t.”

She grabs my shoulder, and tilts up my head, looking directly into my eyes. “I love you, okay Alyssa?”

I don’t know what to feel. A part of me wants to believe it, wants to hug her so tightly and be her little girl again, but I’m not. She’s faded away now, the old Mum that I knew is gone. Now I’m here, seventeen years old, a cancer victim, and she’s there, living her life now, a cashier in a fancy store and I’m not a part of it anymore. She’s gone now.

I jerk around as the pan begins to sizzle and I realize that the eggs are beginning to burn. I whip the spatula towards the eggs, but my hand brushes the hot pot, and I yelp and jump backwards, pain flashing through my hand. I grab the handle of the pot and somehow manage to fling the eggs across the room, hitting Mum’s shirt and forming a clump on the floor.

Mum yells a curse word and stares at me with anger flashing over her face. “You idiot,” she cries, brushing the oil marks off her dress. “What’d you do that for?”

I’m on the floor in a moment, dropping the half-cooked eggs into my hand. “I didn’t mean to, I promise,” I insist, knowing that I sound like a silly baby, but not really caring. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the darkness spin around me for a moment before opening them again and looking at her. “Take it easy, I’ll make more.”

“Well hurry up with it,” she snaps, tapping her watch impatiently. “I need to be at Walmart in half an hour.”

I dump the eggs into the trash and busy myself with making new a new batch, stirring in spices this time to make it better. She goes into the other room, and I stare at the eggs for a long time, watching them slowly crisp and form into solid. My head aches slightly, I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I somehow manage to slip them onto a plate and keep myself from flinging the finished product at her face.

She gives a nod of approval and sets the plate down hard on the table, gobbling the eggs down without a word. My stomach is too knotted to want to eat anything, but she barely even notices, finishing the eggs with a gulp of water and bringing them to the sink. “Good job, Alyssa, this is better,” she says as she walks out, and I nod abruptly and stumble into the other room after her. “Have a good day.”

She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and rests her hand on the door handle. “I’m going to work now,” she tells me flatly. “Do enjoy yourself. But not with Barney.” She gives a crude laugh and runs her fingers through my hair. “You make lunch, there’s some veggies in the fridge. If you need anything, call me.”

I don’t mention my broken phone, just following her lamely out the door. “Have a good day,” I say quietly, and she gives me a watery smile and drops the keys into my hand. “I certainly will.”

I run my fingers over the jagged, cold metal, and swing the door shut behind us. She leaves briskly, yanking open the door of her shiny red car and sitting herself down, slamming her foot down on the pedal and leaving in an instant without looking back.

I sit myself down on the cold stone steps, tossing the key from hand to hand and staring at the spot where the car was. I wish she would appear again, say that she was sorry, but she won’t. I feel like I should be glad that she is gone, happy that I finally have some time alone, but instead I find that I just want her again. And somehow, I find that I am completely alone.

I raise my head, and my eyes suddenly land on the gnomes sitting outside on the grass. They’ve toppled over, staring up at the sky now. I inch towards them, my heart screaming inside of my chest, I grab one of them with my hands and stare at it for a moment with my eyebrows scrunched together.

I don’t know what I’m doing, but I can’t stop myself. Memories are flying through my head, I have to do something, I grab a rock off the grass and slam it into the gnome’s head. Fragments of plastic shatter everywhere, still I keep pounding, pounding, until the gnome’s head is crushed and it’s smile destroyed. I find with shock that I’m smiling, and I toss the plastic up in the air, laughter rolling up inside me and exploding from my chest. I collapse on the floor next to the broken pieces, shaking wildly, my smile frozen on my face, somehow happy, but unbearably sad. I take a handful of the slivers and fling them up in the air, leaping up and spinning around, dancing wildly, and then falling again, letting the pieces fall around me and my head fall to my chest.