Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

A/N: So, I'm sorry I haven't updated Serenade Me lately, and I'm sorry to the people that put it on their alert list, but I don't think I'm gonna continue that story. I haven't really been feeling it, y'know? But here's a new story for you all that should be updated way more frequently! R&R please!

I felt numb. I could barely feel anything, but I could see everything. I could see my mother sobbing and my father taking her into his arms. I could see the doctor's lips moving, explaining exactly what was going on. And when I looked to the left, into the mirror on the doctor's wall, I saw myself.

My shoulder length dark brown hair now looked dead through my eyes. My normally flushed cheeks looked pale and dead. My lips, usually curved into a smile – dead. I could see my eyes, always bright and alive. Now they were emotionless.

"I have... cancer." I wasn't asking – simply stating. The word felt foreign on my tongue. My forehead crinkled and I shook my head slowly. Isabella Swan – cancer patient. It didn't sound right. I didn't feel right saying it.

"Yes," the doctor said. "But there are many treatments that you can have." He smiled at me. I think it was supposed to be reassuring, but I could clearly see the sympathy behind it. I decided right then and there that I absolutely despised those smiles. I didn't smile back.

The doctor went on to list the types of treatments that were available to me. My mom and dad were nodding their heads vigorously to whatever he was saying, grasping onto any concept of hope that I had left. I wasn't. I didn't want to do it. Any of it.

"No." I stated. They all looked at me in shock and surprise. The doctor stopped talking. I looked at the ground, trying to avoid their eyes.

"What?" My mom asked. She was bewildered. Incredulous.

"No." I repeated firmly. "No treatment." I looked up at them. I tried to convey to them how serious I actually was. No treatment. I kept repeating it in my head. I almost felt selfish refusing treatment, but it was my choice. I didn't want to go through it all. I knew enough about cancer to know that chemotherapy sucked. Badly. To me it wasn't even worth it.

"W-what?" My mother stuttered. "Why not?" My dad wasn't speaking. Just staring off into space at nothing in particular.

"I..." I hesitated. "I don't want to live that way." I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't be weak.

"You don't want to live that way." Mom unnecessarily repeated my words. She sounded like a lost puppy. A confused child that didn't know the meaning of something. Lost.

"I don't," I said again. The doctor looked shocked. I couldn't blame him – how often does a seventeen year old say she doesn't want cancer treatment? Probably never. My mom started crying harder.

The doctor spoke up. "There are many great treatments out there, and –"

"No."

And that was that.

It was all settled. I would live my life to the fullest... without treatment. My mother and father had finally consented to my decision. I told them that it was my body and my life. They made me promise to really think about it, and gave me a week for my final decision.

I had already decided. No treatment. The doctor told us that without treatment, I would have anywhere from 1 to 2 years to live.

The days passed slowly, too slowly for my liking. I told my friends about the cancer. They cried and cried – I didn't shed a tear. I wouldn't be weak.

About a month later, I was at home after school eating some ice-cream. My mom walked in the door, smiled at me, and sat down across from me. She looked deep in thought, and I tilted my head to the side in confusion.

"What?" I asked her. She shook her head a little, ridding herself of her thoughts.

"I have an idea." She smiled brightly. I narrowed my eyes a little. She seemed way too excited.

"What?"

"How about..." my mom trailed off. I gestured for her go to on, and she laughed. I really wondered what had gotten into her. "We go live somewhere else."

"Uh." I mumbled, "Where?" I was still thoroughly confused. Everything was here. My school, my friends. Her job, my dad's job. Why would she want to move?

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Name a place." She said excitedly. I immediately knew what was going on.

"Oh, no." I shook my head. "This isn't like one of those 'last wishes' things, is it?" I asked her. I didn't want this. This was too much. No.

"No." She shrugged. "I just want to move."

"No... you don't." I said slowly. "You love it here." It was true. She loved our hometown in Texas. It was one of her favorite places. I wouldn't take that away from her. Too selfish. I wasn't too keen on where we lived. I didn't like Texas, and I always joked about moving. I never really took it seriously, and didn't think my parents did either. Apparently I was wrong.

"Well, you know..." she trailed off.

I raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"I know that you always wanted to go to California." She said. I automatically grinned at the thought of going there. Going to the beach. Going to the mall, like a real Cali chick. Building a sand castle. We didn't have any of those things in our small town. I planned on living in California when I was old enough. As weird as it sounds, it was my dream. I sighed sadly. It would never come true now.

"No." I shook my head with a reassuring smile. "You don't have to do that for me."

"I want to, Bells." She said softly. I knew that she was telling the truth, but I couldn't do that to her. She would be giving up her whole life here, and so would my dad. No.

"I can't do that."

"I'm forcing you." She shrugged. "You have no other option." She went on to tell me that her and my dad had been planning it for a couple weeks, and that the house was already up for sale. I was in shock, but definitely flattered.

Three weeks later, we were on our way to California. I was thrilled.

Edward will be in the next chapter. :)