OK, this story popped in my head when I was bored at work today. It's a little different and it will also be from Nathan's POV as well. I appreciate your thoughts.
Chapter 1
Right now, I'm looking out of a double door window. It's a nice day outside and I'd rather not be sitting in here with my entire family. My Mum is asking a million questions to the grey haired man behind the desk, my Dad is staring off into space, at first glance you'd think he was very interested in whatever he was staring at, but he's looking at nothing. Then you have my siblings, the eldest Matt is sitting with his hands in his head, whether there is tears in his eyes or not, I don't no. Vivian is concentrating on the grey haired man with her hand on Quinn's shoulder, she's already crying, but that's not surprising, she always cries first. Chris and Brian, my identical twin brothers are sitting in the back of the room, and just like Dad, they're staring off into space, not entirely sure at what. And Taylor, I don't think she's ever been so quiet and that kind of scares me.
"Haley?" Grey haired man asks me. "Are you still with us?"
I make a funny noise. Of course I am you idiot, I'm sitting directly across from you aren't I. "Yeah" I mumble.
"We need to start talking about treatments, you can have your family in here or you can ask them to leave."
"They can stay." But I tune him out again. I don't really care about any of the treatments.
I wish I was a butterfly; they seem so care free, just flying from flower to flower. I bet they never get asked a million questions all at once. They just fly from tree to tree, flower to flower, and if you're lucky, they'll land on your hand. They're so pretty and colourful, and there patterns seem to match. Did I mention that they fly? Yeah, I defiantly wish I was a butterfly.
Here's the thing, I've been sick since I was fifteen years old. It's on and it's off and I spend so much time in the hospital that they should have a permanent bed for me. I get all these needles in my back, in my arms, in my hands, and basically anywhere they want to put them for that visit. I get all these bruises on my back and my skin tends to get dry, so I constantly live in jeans, converse and a t-shirt. A sweater when it's cold. I don't go swimming, because I'm way too self conscious about my body so when all my friends are at the beach, I always tend to come up with an excuse.
Speaking of my friends, we've had the same group of friends since, well, first grade. You know how people say time changes, best friends become strangers? Yeah, not us we stick together, we tell each other everything.
Except me.
You see, I don't think it'd be fair on them.
OK, that's a lie.
It wouldn't be fair on me; I don't want to be treated differently. I get it enough from my family already. And as much as I love my friends, when one person finds out, another finds out and then another and so on and so forth. It's how it works, the good old rumour mill.
I've done pretty well to keep it a secret for the past four years.
Whenever I had to get my treatment I got pretty sick. Lots of vomiting, it gets pretty disgusting actually. My family is pretty big, and I'm pretty good at school so when we "unexpectedly" left for a vacation with my family, my teachers wouldn't mind. They'd give me lots of work to do, and I'd get it done, so it didn't matter. My friends didn't notice either, it was normal for me to be just disappearing to see my family. In my senior year, I stopped treatments and it all went away. I thought I was free, so I got a normal senior year. It came back in the beginning of college and I stopped again and the teachers found it weird, but my parents had a talk with them. In the meanwhile I felt like such a baby. But we worked it out, I got all my work done, I got good grades and my teachers were OK with that. Now it's back, I'm halfway through my second year.
I'm actually studying English Major/Education, if you were interested.
"...twelve months without the treatment." He finished. Grey haired man, you know, I should start calling him my Doctor.
Hm, well this kind of snapped me out of my day dream.
"Wait, if she refuses treatment, she has twelve months to live?"
"Unfortunately, that's correct Mr. James."
"But she's our baby." My Mum whines.
I'm sick of this baby crap; I'm nearly twenty years old.
"I'm not a baby." I put in, but no one listens.
"So she gets the treatment then, simple." Matt speaks up. He has been crying. Sad actually.
"Then she'll be better." Quinn sobbed.
"And she'll be OK?" Chris asked.
"Right Doc?" Brian finished.
"IF she has the treatment, that's completely up to her." He answers all the questions being thrown in his face with one. I feel a little sorry for him.
Shit. Tay's still quiet. Vivian's moved over to her now, she's noticed it too.
"So what do you say Haley Bop?" Dad asks me.
But I'm still daydreaming. I'd like to be a fairy too, that'd be cool. "Can I think about it?" I ask.
Stupid on my part.
"Hales," Vivian says. "You have to do the treatment, it'll keep you alive."
"What if I don't want to be alive, what if I want to die?" I ask, as if it's the most normal question in the world.
Again, stupid, but at least Taylor speaks up. Or should I say yells.
"HALEY!" she screams. "YOU HAVE TO DO THE TREATMENT, THERE'S NO QUESTION ABOUT IT!"
Mm, really stupid on my part. Oh well, can't stop her now.
"YOU CAN'T DIE! THIS FAMILY HAS AND ALWAYS WILL BE THE NINE OF US! IT JUST HAS TO BE. YOU'RE MY SISTER! YOU CAN'T JUST GIVE UP! YOU CAN'T! IT ISN'T FAIR!" she's sobbing now. Her voice has turned quiet.
"I don't want you to die." She whispers.
"I know Tay," I tell her. "But I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, you know that."
"But you won't" she says. "You're too smart."
I smile, everyone smiles. Apparently it's a good thing when I smile.
"We all have to die," I tell her, I tell them all. "Can I think about it?" I ask Dr. Grey Hair.
"OK, here's the thing. Six months, in six months if you don't make a decision there won't be any time left. You have six months, you'll feel normal but after the six months is up, you'll go downhill incredibly fast."
I ponder this, six months isn't really that long to be told you have to live. But I have six months to decide if I want to go on with the treatment or no. Six months, maybe I'll fall in love. Then, it'd be worth going through the treatment. At least maybe that's what it'd be like in the movies. I don't know, I'm confused and my head hurts.
"Or you could do it now." He says.
I look at my family. They want me to start it now, it sucks. All of their vulnerable faces are looking at me; it kind of makes me feel a little forced to make this decision. Maybe I should have kicked them out after all. Or, maybe not. There my support, there my life, apart from my friends.
"I might think about it tonight," I say "And then come in tomorrow and discuss it with you then, maybe alone." I glance up and scrunch my face up. I give them some hope, a spark of life in my eyes.
"I think that's a good idea." Dr. Grey says. "I have you booked in for four in the afternoon; will your classes be finished by then?"
"They will thank you Dr. Marshall." I say, and give him a sweet smile. Better not call him Dr. Grey Hair to his face, that would be rude.
I stand up and walk out the door, my family then follow me out. There all whispering to each other, and I do my very well best to tune this out.
I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy, not that I have one. I've been pretty blessed with my friends, and there are people worse off than me, I know that.
It sucks, this sucks, Cancer sucks.
