The Legend of Mary Mayo--Part One

Leaves were bright orange, burnt red, and a gorgeous yellow on the campus of Michigan State University. Abby clutched her arms tighter around her body and tucked her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie. It was fall, finally, in Michigan. Gorgeous colors, hayrides, caramel apples, carving pumpkins were all a part of why this was her favorite season. The main reason, though, was that Halloween was in autumn. Costumes, Candy, Corn-mazes and Haunted Houses fill her mind this time of year. She walked into the Barista Café, the wind finally stopped blowing around her as she entered the building. Ordering a tall Vanilla Cappucino, she sat down in one of the big comphy leather chairs waiting for her friend. Courtney came running in five minutes later, obviously excited by something. Her short blonde hair had been mussed by the wind.
“What are you doing Thursday night?” She demanded, sitting down.
Abby set her drink down, “Absolutely nothing. Why, what’s up?”
“ Haunted House, Mayo hall, I’d love for you to go. I’m helping put iton with another mentor.” Courtney was smiling ear to ear. Abby agreed, as Courtney dove on, “Do you know the legend of Mary Mayo?” Abby had never heard of it, and urged Courtney to tell her, “Well,” Courtney started, “ it goes back long ago to when women were first admitted into MSU and only allowed to live in the Mayo dorm. She had just broken up with her boyfriend and she went down to the basement and hung herself in what now is known as the Red Room. Students have some odd experiences when they go to the "Red Room", it has been remodeled as a study lounge. The closet has formed into a storage closet over the years, but the clothes rod is still in there. One student was studying late at night (of course) before midterms, and she heard the rod vibrate against the walls (as if something had been tied to a rope then flung over it so the rod had to support the weight of the thrown object). She opened the door, and nothing was there, the closet had been cleaned out. The lights flickered and she heard a piano playing.
“ Two of my other RA friends went there and did it themselves. Adam was on duty that night, so he had the duty phone, too. They took a Ouiji board into the Red Room and lit a candle. The duty phone rang, and when the on-duty RA answered, no one was there. Thinking it was just a prank-call, the RA's decided to call the number back. Turns out, it was a number that didn't even exist. After that, the Ouji board went crazy, apparently, and they heard insane laughter when they started to conduct the Sayance. After the insane laughter, supposedly the face of Satan appeared to them dancing around.” She waited for a response.
“That’s just creepy.” Abby said, clutching her drink, “But I love it!”
“So you’ll go?”
“I already told you that!” Abby was excited, “ Better yet, you’re putting it on, aren’t you?” Courtney nodded, “Well then, we’re keeping the Red Room open later…and we’re having our own personal sayance.”

How is this possible?

It's never going to happen to me. That's what most people say when they talk about getting cancer. Well, actually that's the truth. It most likely won't happen to you. That's what I thought, too. I couldn't imagine having cancer, nor would my best friend of sixteen years have it. But, it's happening, and it's scary.

It started out just like any other worknight. Sitting down watching a performance and getting paid. The only unusual thing? My phone kept ringing like I was an operator. It was Colin three times, then Katie only once. When I got around to calling her back, my night would never go back. She told me when she went to her doctors appointment, he found a couple spots on her ovaries that were of concern. Concern as in what, I wanted to know. Concern as in cancerous. It was dead silent for what seemed like an eternity, however in reality it was only a couple of seconds. All I could think, "No." Then the tears started coming down. She couldn't. She was eighteen. Only a month away from being nineteen. What the hell? How is this happening? They're not for sure yet, and they need to talk it over again at another appointment, but no. Katie's vivacious, she's full of life. She has gotten over so much in her life, she's truly my hero. She's accomplished only half of what I wish I had, and gotten through some majorly hard times that no one should have to go through. So, why her?

I was complaining earlier that life wasn't fair, about how some people can slack off but succeed in life beyond anyone elses dreams. Then, this. Life truly isn't fair. An Eighteen year old girl should not have ovarian cancer, should not have to worry about chemo-therapy, and should not have to worry about whether she might live or die. She should be worrying about her new apartment next year with me, her best friend, getting into MSU, and definitely worrying about classes and getting football tickets. Not about that.

I can't cry, though. She wasn't crying, so I can't. I have to be strong. She needs my strength as much as her own now more than ever. She needs me to not cry and be there for her while she is. She needs me to be the rock that she's always been for me. And I will be. Without a doubt I will be. God wouldn't give us anything we can not handle, and if it is cancer we're going to give it hell and fight with all we've got because it doesn't realize it not only took on the rough and ready Katie, but also Me. Together we'll get through this. Without a doubt, we will get through this.