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MidReal Story
The Boy Who Knew Too Much
Scenario:A black 14-year-old boy finds comfort talking to a black 14-year-old girl on an online forum, and she helps him cope with a death in his family.
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Ethan
He is a 14yearold dealing with grief and loneliness. He is grateful, isolated, and sensitive. After losing his mother to cancer, Ethan struggles to cope with his emotions. He finds solace in an online forum where he meets a girl named Samantha, who offers him companionship and understanding. Despite his isolation at home with his grandparents, Ethan cherishes their care. He treasures the friendship he has with Samantha, using it to...
Grandma
She is Ethan's grandmother who lives with him and his grandfather. She is caring, attentive, and supportive. Grandma takes on a maternal role in Ethan's life after losing his mother to cancer. She ensures Ethan's physical needs are met, cooking meals for him and taking care of his hygiene. Her presence provides Ethan with comfort and stability. She encourages him to express his emotions and supports him in grieving, creating a nurturing environment for him to heal.
Grandpa
He is Ethan's grandfather who corises the boy alongside his grandmother. He is understanding, gentle, and supportive. Grandpa shares some of the grief with Ethan over losing his mother but also tries to be strong for the boy. He engages in activities with Ethan like fishing to distract him from sorrow. Grandpa provides a sense of normalcy and companionship for Ethan, helping him cope with his emotions through shared experiences and quiet conversations.
I am grateful.
I am grateful because I can still remember her smile, her laugh, the way she used to comb my hair when I was younger, the way she would read me stories before I go to sleep.
I am grateful because even though she’s no longer with us, I can still feel her presence, like she’s still watching over me, guiding me.
I am grateful because I can still talk to her, even though she can’t answer back.
I am grateful because even though she’s gone, her memory stays with me, and that’s enough for me to keep going.
A few days ago, while browsing through some online forums, I saw this post from a 14-year-old girl who said she has alopecia areata, a condition that makes you lose your hair.
She posted pictures of herself before and after the condition, and I must say, she looked really sad in all of them.
I don’t know why I felt the urge to message her, but I did, and we started talking.
Her name is Samantha, and she’s really nice.
We talked about life, school, friends, family… and I must say, it was really easy talking to her.
I told her about Mom’s death and how I’m still having a hard time coping with it.
She listened attentively and gave me advice on what to do to make myself feel better.
She also told me about her condition and how she’s dealing with it.
I sit at my desk after dinner, staring at the computer screen in front of me.
The last message she sent is still there: "Just got back from my doctor’s appointment. Everything seems fine."
I place my fingers on the keyboard, ready to type a reply, but I don’t know what to say.
I’ve been wanting to ask her something for the past few days, but I haven’t had the courage to do so.
I type a few words and delete them immediately.
I repeat this process a few times before I finally gather enough courage to write what I really want to say.
"How do you stay so strong? I see how people treat you at school, but you’re always positive when we talk."
I hit enter and wait for her reply.
As I wait, I hear Grandma humming while watering her plants in her room next door.
It’s been a while since she’s done that, and it’s good to see her doing something other than watching TV all day. The chat bubble appears and disappears a few times as Samantha types her response.
I stare at the screen, waiting for her reply.
Through my open window, I hear the neighbor’s kids playing basketball in their backyard.
Their laughter carries across the yard and into my room.
I think about all the times Mom and I played catch in our backyard when I was younger.
She was always so good at throwing the ball, and I was always so bad at catching it.
But we always had fun doing it together.
I think about the fishing trips with Grandpa, where we sit in silence and wait for a bite.
I think about the late-night chats with Samantha, where we talk about anything and everything.
I open the drawer next to my bed and pull out the last photo taken of Mom and me at the beach.
It’s a bit faded now, but her smile is still as bright as ever.
I run my fingers over her face in the picture, wishing she were here with me now. The chat bubble appears again, and I turn my attention back to the computer screen.
Samantha’s response is there: "It’s not easy, but I try to focus on the good things in life. Like my family and friends who support me no matter what. And like you, who talks to me even though we’ve never met before."
I smile at her response and start typing again: "You’re right. There are a lot of good things in life that we should focus on. Like our families and friends who care about us. And like our health, which is something we should always be grateful for."
I hit send, feeling a sense of connection that transcends the distance between us.
I stare at my phone, my heart racing as I consider pressing the call button next to Samantha’s username.
My fingers hover over the screen as I read our latest messages: "Just got back from my doctor’s appointment. He found a new treatment that he thinks will work."
I hear Grandpa’s lawn mower rumbling outside my open window, and the familiar sound calms my nerves.
I’ve never called anyone from the forum before, but after three months of chatting, I want to hear her voice.
The clock on my wall reads 7:15 PM, which means she should be done with dinner by now.
I take a deep breath and press the call button, my heart pounding in my chest.
After a few rings, she answers, her voice soft and a little surprised, "Hello?"
"Hey, Samantha, it's me," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I know, I saw your name pop up," she says, her voice a little shaky but warm.
"So, how did the doctor's appointment go?"
I grip my phone tighter, eager to hear her response.
"It went well," she says, her words coming out faster now.
"They're trying a new treatment on me. It's some kind of specialized medication that they've been testing for hair regrowth. They said it's been showing some promising results so far."
"That sounds good," I say, leaning back in my chair.
"Yeah, I'm hopeful about it," she says, her voice filled with excitement.
"The doctor said it might take a few months to see any significant changes, but he thinks it could work."
"That's great," I say, smiling at her enthusiasm.
"And in the meantime, they're going to monitor my progress closely to make sure everything is going smoothly."
"Okay, that makes sense," I say, nodding even though she can't see me.
"So, what exactly does this treatment involve?"
"Well, they're going to give me a special cream to apply to my scalp every day," she explains.
"It's supposed to stimulate hair growth and prevent any further hair loss. And then they'll be monitoring my progress with regular check-ups and blood tests." "That sounds like a good plan," I say, impressed by how much detail she's giving me.
"Yeah, I'm feeling pretty positive about it," she says, her voice filled with determination.
"And if this treatment doesn't work, there are always other options we can explore. So, I'm not giving up hope yet."
"That's the right attitude," I say, feeling inspired by her resilience.
"And you know what? I already started noticing some changes," she says, her voice filled with excitement.
"Like what?"
I ask, curious about what she means.
"Well, along my hairline, I can see some fine hairs starting to grow back in," she explains.
"It's not much yet, but it's something."
"That's amazing!" I exclaim without thinking.
She laughs at my reaction, and we both end up whooping and cheering like we've just won a game or something.
Grandpa pokes his head into my room to see what all the commotion is about.
"Everything okay in here?" he asks, a curious smile on his face.
"Yeah, Grandpa, just some good news from a friend," I reply, grinning widely.
Samantha giggles on the other end and adds, "Your grandpa sounds nice. You should tell him about my little victory."