So much writing is inspired by music. Certain music has different effects of people. Some songs are so heartfelt and earnest that it makes some cry, whereas others are so inspirational and moving it makes some go out and quit their jobs to pursue a lifelong dream or goal.

Well, the point of this all, is that I've been organizing all of my old CDs lately; getting rid of a lot, saving a few… so anyway, I came across an old Avril Lavigne CD and I was listening to it and there were one or two songs that jumped out to me.

It gave me so many story ideas.

So this story was inspired by the song "Keep Holding On" by Avril Lavigne (I suggest listening to it before reading. It's actually quite moving.).

This is also dedicated to my friend, Ericka, who has just been diagnosed with terminal cancer.

Just Keep Holding On.

Massie Block sat nervously in Dr. Friedman's waiting room, fiddling in her chair, trying to make the time go by just a little faster… no such luck.

She was so worried; he had made it sound so urgent over the phone. She kept replaying the phone call over and over in her head.

Massie Block was at home in her spacious kitchen preparing the night's dinner for her and Derrick. Tonight was the night. She was planning on asking him to move in with her, and to celebrate she thought she'd make his favorite meal, Homemade Spaghetti and Meatballs.

Suddenly she heard the telephone ring from the hallway. She washed her hands quickly in the sink and dried them with the nearest dish towel as she hurried over to the phone. She glanced at the Caller ID before picking up, making sure it wasn't a 1-800 # trying to sell her some mindless product or service.

It read Dr. Friedman's Office. That's interesting, she thought. Why would my Doctor be calling me at a time like this? My last physical was… well, 2 weeks ago.

Immediately, she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. About a million things ran through her mind at that very moment. Oh, all the things that could've gone wrong…

Worriedly, she slowly removed the phone from its charger and gave a weak hello.

"Miss Block?"

"Er, yes. This is she."

"Oh, yes. Hello, this is Dr. Friedman's Office speaking regarding last week's physical. Dr. Friedman would like to see you as soon as possible. He's cleared his schedule all day just for your choosing. What time is good for you?"

"Well, um… if I may ask, what exactly is so urgent that he needs to see me as soon as possible?"

"As the receptionist, I am not allowed to speak of medical concerns with patients. That's left up to the nurses and doctors of the office, miss."

Immediately Massie felt a rush of cool air go up her spine. Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong.

"Massie Block." the receptionist called from the desk, signaling her over.

Massie stood shakily and grabbed her purse from the side table standing next to her. She walked slowly and half-heartedly over to the old, frail woman.

"Dr. Friedman will see you now." she said simply. Her name tag read Elyse.

Massie gave a shy smile and nodded her head to show she understood.

"Follow me, please."

Elyse took off from behind her desk and walked swiftly down the hallway. She led Massie to Dr. Friedman's office.

She opened the door for Massie to reveal the lavish room, drenched in Persian rugs and valuable portraits.

Massie entered the room slowly, not sure what this room had in store for her… what type of news she would be informed of in this room. This was the type of room she would remember… this was the type of room that changed people's lives.

Dr. Friedman sat behind the large oak desk eaten up by thousands of loose papers and files. He had bags under his eyes revealing his exhaustion.

She walked to the large leather chair that sat in front of the desk. Yup, this was the chair they used when they had nothing but bad news to reveal to their patients.

Massie sat down slowly; still unsure of what exactly was happening.

Dr. Friedman looked up at her, worry in his eyes.

"Miss Block." his raspy voice said, with a nod.

Massie sat silent, looking down at her cuticles, tears welling up in her eyes. What? What was wrong with me?

He took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm sorry to inform you that you have been diagnosed with terminal cancer. You have an estimated 2 months to live."

I'm really into this story right now! It's sad, I know. It gets sadder though. So know what you're in store for!

I like reviews. ;)