It’s dark when I wake up with my heart beeping real fast and the sheet all twisted around my feet. The nightmare was so real. In it, we’re playing dominoes again, but everyone’s talking so much that the game is taking forever. Lots of talking, little playing. I want the game done so I can go to my room. We’ve been playing for hours and hours but we’re still just on tens. Dad’s at this game, that’s the only good thing, but I can’t get his attention. “Hey, Dad,” I keep saying, but he just goes on talking about selling Nana’s house. Then my mom gets one of her headaches and, POW, her forehead hits the table right on top of her dominoes. I want to help her, but I can’t seem to move.
POW,“Brain cancer,” whispers Stephen. He has on one of those white coats like doctors wear and there’s an old-t
