So, this is my first Life with Derek fic. I've read tons.. but I've always written for One Tree Hill & That 70s Show.
Figured I'd try this out though. So I hope you like it.
Please review.
Oh, this is a future fic, by the way :)
I'm pretty sure the entire fic will be told in Caseys point of view.
RATED:M
Though not in the prologue, its rated M for drug use, language, sexual content, violence, among other things.
Disclaimer: I don't own Life With Derek, if I did you wouldn't be reading this, you'd be watching it in a movie theater!
The Price Of Fame;
"It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness.
We have no scar to show from happiness. We learn so little from peace."
— Chuck Palahniuk
Prologue.
Its funny, people always say, "you don't know how much something means to you until its gone". I never realized how true those words were until six years ago, I don't think any of us did. We took it all for granted. We fought against our family, because at the end of the day, we knew we'd always have it. Or at least we thought we would.
I can't say that everything happened so fast, because it didn't. In fact, it was the longest eight months of my entire life. Eight months I wish I could block out of my memory, but I'm reminded of it every night in my dreams.
We got the news when I was seventeen. This is back when I thought my family was invincible. I swore if we fought hard enough, we could make it through anything. I was a senior in high school, three months away from graduation. I was already set to go off to Queens in the fall. My life was just beginning, no one would've ever guessed that hers was ending.
We didn't understand how it could happen to us, I'm still not completely sure I understand now. She was as healthy as ever, the only reason she went to the doctor was for a simple routine check up.
She never smoked, never stayed outside in the sun without sunscreen for too long. She never put herself at risk. How was she suppose to know that the little tiny fucking mole on her thigh would ultimately kill her?
At first they said it could be nothing, they just needed to run some tests to make sure. Two months, thirteen doctors, three hospitals, one fucking tiny mole. As the two months went by, she started showing other symptoms. She was in bed all the time, and yet she was always so tired. Everything she ate she threw up, to the point where they had to tube feed her because she had no appetite. Though she was always a thin woman, she got so frail, like she was simply made of skin and bones.
It was finally confirmed. Stage three Melanoma. On the bright side, with treatment there was a 25 to 60% chance of survival.
Too bad it spread so quickly.
She stopped responding to treatment three days before my high school graduation, they gave her no more than four more months to live.
I was suppose to be our class speaker, I passed it on to the next person in line.
It was suppose to be the time of my life, but all I could think about was the time we all had left.
I didn't go to college that fall, neither did Derek. We stayed home, tried to help out as much as we could. We both got jobs, and after summertime tried our best to help out our younger siblings. We made their breakfast, took them to school, did their laundry, picked them up, helped them with their homework, made dinner, and tried to explain the best that we could that no matter what, we'd all still be a family. We both knew in our hearts that it was a lie.
My mother passed on October 19th, 2009. The doctors gave her four months to live, she fought with everything in her for five of the longest months of my life.
I guess you can say that Derek and I grew closer in those last months. We were all the support each other had. We tried our best to help our younger siblings, and give George the strength to survive losing his wife, and somewhere along the way we built a bond that we thought would never be broken.
I wish I could say we still kept in touch, but again, that would be a lie. We tried for a while, but after six months of emails, phone calls, and text messages we drifted a part. Everyone thought it was best if Lizzie went to live with our father, and so she wouldn't have to be alone I went with her. I started NYU the following year, and majored in journalism.
October 28th, 2009, was the last time I was Derek Venturi in person.
And even six years later, I'll never forget the feeling I got when we said our goodbyes.
He hugged me tight, and for a brief moment it felt like all of my pain was gone.
"Don't forget me Princess" he whispered, so quietly that I barely heard him myself.
He closed the door to my fathers car, and tears fell from my eyes as I promised myself I wouldn't.
I never have.
The first chapter will be up with in a few days, please review!
