February 12th. He was only ten years old. Too young to truly understand what was happening, but he did.
His mother was sick his dad told him, the doctors used big words that he didn't understand. All he knew was that his mom wasn't smiling the way she used to anymore.
She was tired and fell asleep when Stiles read the books his teacher gave him to read to a parent. She was in soft pink pajamas but they were too big on her frail body.
Stiles didn't understand when she looked right past him or didn't ask how his day was at school like she used to.
His mom had small tv screens that made beeping noises and sometimes stopped and then all the nurses would come in and push him out of the room.
Those were the times when he would cry, scared because his mom was sick and his dad was working.
Family friends would pick him up and take him home, feed him dinner,
and after a while Martha became like a second mother to him and Bob would take him to little league baseball for his games on Thursday nights.
Scott always cheered him up when they were together and Melissa gave him really good mac n' cheese when he would spend the nights.
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