Vicky sat in the stiff powder blue chair in the doctor's office, waiting for her name to be called on to go in and get her check-up. She stared out the window, forgetting how uncomfortable the chair was and stared at the puffy white cotton-candy clouds that scudded over the baby blue sky. Lost in a daydream, she wondered curiously what it would be like to fly up into those soft clouds, and lose yourself in their white mist. Of course she knew that in reality the clouds were just water, and nothing much. But Vicky wasn't in reality, she was off in dreamland.

"Victoria Winters?" a lady in a white uniform called softly, informing Vicky and her parents it was her turn. It also interrupted Vicky's daydream.

With a soft sigh, Vicky got up out of the chair and followed her mother, Karen, into one of the rooms. Following her mother's example, she sank once more into another set of chairs. These though, were not blue. They were a pale yellow, but just as uncomfortable.

Vicky tried to lose herself in another daydream while she waited for her doctor to come in, but failed to. She had always hated coming to the doctor's office. They were such quiet places, too quiet. And they had always made her nervous and edgy. She didn't know why. Whenever she came here though, she just got nervous. Her palms would start to sweat, and her heart would thud around in her chest. That is, unless she lost herself in a daydream. If that happened she would be totally relaxed, and her eyes would turn soft and dreamy. But that wouldn't be happening now, Vicky had already found out that. So, with an inward sigh, Vicky waited in silence.

It seemed like there was nothing but silence in a hospital. Wherever you went, nobody talked. Or if they did dare break the silence it was only to talk in whispers, as if everybody was afraid that if they made too much noise they'd get kicked out.

Would that happen? Probably not. I don't think they can kick you out of a hospital just for breaking the silence. It sure seems like they might though. If you say anything unneeded or a little too loud it seems like a nurse will suddenly be walking by and they can scowl at you. Or a secretary will pop up from behind their desk to give you a glare before suddenly disappearing again.

Suddenly the door swished open, and a woman with short nut brown hair and mocha eyes walked in briskly.

"Well, hello. You must be Victoria Winters." She said when she had gotten fully in and checked her clipboard. "My name is Ms. Walters."

"Vicky." Vicky said, standing up to take the hand that Ms. Walters had stuck out.

"Karen." Vicky's mom said as Vicky sat back down. She also stood up and shook hands with the doctor.

"Well, why don't you come and sit here, Vicky?" Ms. Walters said, gesturing towards one of the long table/chairs that were in all doctor's offices, the ones that have the long strip of white paper going down them.

Vicky stood and walked over to it, sitting down where Ms. Walters had pointed. She made herself comfortable, and noticed that it was a lot more comfortable than the chairs her mom and her had been sitting in before and the one that her mom was sitting in now.

"And how old are you?" Ms. Walters asked Vicky.

"Thirteen, fourteen in October." She replied, knowing this was the start of the millions of questions that doctor's always had to ask.

"When in October is your birthday?"

"The 21st."

Ms. Walters bustled around the confined space in the office, inquiring many things as she went along. Every so often, Vicky wasn't sure of an answer and would look to her mom for a little help. Karen would obligingly help her out. After every question was answered it would be written down on the enquirer's clipboard.

When she had answered what seemed like a thousand questions for Ms. Walters, the doctor finally started the checkup. Procedure after procedure, all routine for Vicky. Then some new procedures were done. Vicky didn't know why, but she just went along with it. That's what you were supposed to do at the doctor's. You didn't have much of a say in what happened, you just had to go along with whatever the doctor told you to do. If they told you to stick out your tongue, you did it. Blink your eyes, you did it. Take a deep breath, you did it. Blow you nose, you just did it. No matter how dumb or pointless a procedure seemed, you had to do it. You just had to.

But after every one of the new procedures, Ms. Walters's face grew more troubled, and Vicky saw some darkness flick across the cheerful eyes. A slight frown replaced the smile that had been on her mouth when she had first come in. Occasionally Ms. Walters's eyebrows would be knit together in thought, but if she caught Vicky looking they would instantly smooth out and a fake smile would be spread across her face.

It made her worry. Was something wrong? And was it something major or just something minor? It had to be something; why else would the always-cheerful Ms. Walters be frowning? It was weird… but Vicky tried to calm herself and say it was nothing; Ms. Walters was just having a bad day or something. Maybe she wasn't feeling well.

It could be a million things. Just because she's frowning doesn't mean it has to do with me… it could have to do with someone else- couldn't it?

After a little bit, Ms. Walters went over to Vicky's mom, and then the two went into a corner and Vicky's doctor talked to her mom. Vicky watched as her mom's face grew troubled and a cloud seemed to pass over her blue eyes, just like a storm cloud could suddenly overpower a perfectly clear blue sky. Vicky couldn't hear much of it, but picked out a few pieces of the muffled talk.

"… Can't be sure… never know… more tests… come back later… be sure…"

"… Nothing? ... Do you really think… no… but… are you sure? … I guess… if it'll help…"

"…Doesn't look good… that's for sure… maybe not… more tests… be sure… never know… no two… the same."

After a few more seconds of the whispered chatting, Ms. Walters and Vicky's mom emerged from the corner, and walked toward Vicky.

Ms. Walters stopped in front of her patient, and Mrs. Winters came around to her daughter's side and picked up Vicky's hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Well." Ms. Walters started, after a quick nod from Vicky's mother. "It doesn't look very good."

Vicky gulped. What didn't look good? Was she okay? Maybe it was just something little, like that she was allergic to something. I shouldn't just assumethe worst. Vicky comforted herself. 'It could just be that I'm allergic to dogs, maybe I have the beginnings of asthma. Maybe that's all.' But in the back of her head, something kept telling Vicky 'maybe, but thinking isn't knowing.'

She had to know what was wrong.

All of this flashed through her mind in a second. It would seem that after that second Ms. Walters would be starting to tell her what was wrong, but she didn't seem that eager too. She rambled on, and on, and on, before she finally would come close to telling her.

But Vicky was totally unprepared for what her doctor told her. She was in total and complete shock. How could it be? Her, Vicky… that sick? Without even knowing it… Was this actually happening to her? How could it? Maybe it was just one of her daydreams, or maybe even a night-dream, but no way could this be reality. Not the reality Vicky was used to.

"Of course, we can't be sure. You'll have to come back for some tests…" Ms. Walters was telling her, trying to be comforting. But Vicky was zoned out, off in her own world.

'It must be hard to be a doctor. I mean, you have to give people this kind of news all the time. I don't think I could ever do it. But as hard as it is to think about havingthis kind of news given to you, it's harder to think of even getting this news.' Vicky was still in a sort of numbed shock. Her mind was still trying to process the fact that this was actually happening to her. She'd heard of it in other people, and had always felt bad, but she couldn't believe she had it.

"Well, you probably want to get back home. This must be very hard for you, and I'm very sorry. I'll be keeping you in my prayers. You, and your whole family." Vicky heard Ms. Walters saying.

Prayer.

Religion.

God.

Vicky never thought about these things. She wasn't a Christian, she didn't go to church. In fact, as far as she knew, she had never darkened a church door. Not that she really regretted it. She never really even thought about religion. To her, it was just something some people did and some didn't, and the some that didn't could do just about anything they wanted but the some that did were restricted with their 'Bible Rules'.

Vicky stood up and said good-bye to Ms. Walters and then left, shuffling slowly a short way behind her mother.

For the first time since she had heard the news, Vicky looked at her mom, really looked. Not just a glance or a look at her eyes. It was a full-out look.

Her golden blonde hair was as neat as ever, except in the few places where she had run her fingers through it. There it was slightly tousled. Her blue eyes were clouded over, but bright and shiny with tears. Her rose petal pink lips drooped down in a slight frown where they were usually perked up in a smile. Dark blonde eyebrows were slightly scrunched.

Then, all in a moment, she seemed to make up her mind that she had to be the brave one. Even though she was hurting, she had to be the one to comfort her daughter. So, her mouth perked up, the clouds in her eyes scudded away until there was only a trace of them, and her arching eyebrows went back to normal.

"So, do you want to go get an ice-cream or something?" Karen asked her daughter, as if there was nothing abnormal going on. As if things were back to normal. As if the check-up they had thought would be totally routine had not turned into a disaster.

"Yeah, sure." Vicky answered. Even though she wasn't really up for ice-cream, she knew it would be better she just went along with it. It would make her mother feel better.

Vicky's mom gave her a smile and reached her arm out to give her a quick hug as well. That hug at once told Vicky that everything was going to be alright and also that she would always be there for her when it got hard.

They reached the car. Vicky reached for her door and got in, while her mom went to the other side of the car and got in over there.

"You buckled?" she asked.

"Of course. Are you?" Vicky answered. It was routine for them to do this, and they never forgot.

Vicky's mother seemed determined to make it seem like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She chatted away at Vicky, avoiding anything that might remind Vicky of what had happened. But Vicky couldn't get her mind off of it.

The whole ride was like this. Vicky was relieved when they finally arrived at the ice-cream place. Her mom parked the car, and then they both got out and walked to into the building. They stood in line. They got to the front of the line. They ordered. They received their food.

"So, do you want to eat inside or outside Vick?"

"Outside, definitely." Vicky decided quickly. Outside she would have more scope for imagination, and she needed any chance she could get to daydream and just forget about what had happened for awhile.

Each of them with an ice-cream cone in hand ambled outside and found an open table. Vicky sat down by her mom, cuddling close as she could even though it was early afternoon, about 2:30, and the end of June. It was too warm to cuddle, but Vicky needed to be comforted.

"Thanks for the ice-cream mom." Vicky said gratefully.

"You're welcome honey."

They ate in silence. Vicky both wanted to talk about it and wanted to just forget about it totally. She wanted it to be a dream, a horrible dream. And maybe it was. Maybe all of life was a dream, just one you didn't wake up from. When the dream was over-in other words when you died- then it was like the sleep after a dream, nothing. Just darkness. Nothing. Just a black, dark, nothingness.

Vicky shuddered, even in the warm June sunshine. It was a scary thought, death. She tried to get her mind off of it.

"You know, they said they can't be sure… maybe when the tests come back… maybe it will be negative." Vicky said, trying to find some comfort.

"Maybe." Karen said dreamily. "Maybe." She had that wistful look in her eyes. As if she thought 'Maybe, but more than likely maybe not'. Vicky knew they both wanted those tests to come back negative, but what were the chances? There didn't seem like there could be any chance of it. At all. None. Zip. Nada. No hope whatsoever.

Vicky took another lick of her strawberry ice-cream, pondering about what her mom might be thinking. She knew she was thinking, since she had an absent look in her blue eyes as she licked her mint chocolate chip ice-cream.

Was she thinking about death as well? Wondering what happened after you died? If you lived on… or if you just were gone, and there was nothing. Dark nothingness. Maybe there was. Or maybe there was light. And life. Nobody knew until they were gone. And by then it was too late to tell anybody…

It seemed unfair that the sun could be shining so brightly, as if it was smiling upon the whole world. All the flowers blooming seemed to mock Vicky, as if saying 'we can be happy but you can't! Ha!' All the happy things in the day seemed just to taunt her. Everything seemed to be radiating happiness when her world was being rocked by grief.

It didn't seem fair how people in movies always got the conveniently timed rain. The grey skies and downpour. How when the actors were only pretending to be sad, they got the environment to cooperate with them. But in real life, when you were actually grieving, everything was bright and cheerful. What Vicky wouldn't give to make this day be a cold, drizzly one.

Mother and daughter finished their frozen treats in silence. When they were finished, they got up and went back to the car. Compared to the ride there, the ride home was strangely quiet. Whenever Vicky's mother would turn on a blinker, the little noise seemed to sound as loud as a gunshot, shooting repeatedly.

Slowly they made their way out into the country, towards their house. Vicky watched as they passed familiar landmarks.

The crooked pine tree that was so bent over that it looked like it was bowing to its date, the slender white birch across from it, who was fluttering her green leaves in farewell. The large sparkling pond that was home to a huge heron, who looked at you as you passed with his wise old eyes. An old-fashioned school house, weather beaten with old, faded walls. Trees had popped up all around it. Its door was missing, looking like a tooth that had fallen out, leaving a large, black, empty gap. The huge old tree that was home to a pair of eagles with a huge nest nestled in an embrace between two thick branches. And who could forget the lake? That beautiful glistening lake, the one in which Vicky usually went swimming every summer. Where the slimy seaweed wrapped slyly around your ankle, making you panic for a split second. And the practically dead old tree with the stout branch hanging out over the water, where a tire hung from a sturdy rope used to hang. Now all that remained was the tree and half a rope; the tire's tip would sometimes peek out above the water whenever there was a dry summer and the lake's water level fell.

I wish life was still like that. Still happy… It's nice to look back on all the memories but- why can't life still be that nice? Still seem so happy?

Wow. I've been thinking about this- at least I did just then- as if I've known about this for awhile. As if the horrible truth has always been with me.

Is there anything I could've done? Did I do something wrong to make this happen? Or maybe did I not do something? Or was it inevitable? Would I have gotten bone cancer no matter what I did? I guess I'll have to ask mom.

Mom won't know- neither will dad. How could they? I guess I'll just have to ask the doctors when I go back for the tests. That'll be weird- asking this random doctor that I barely know 'hey, is it my fault that I have bone cancer?' Maybe I should just forget it..

Finally they reached the house. Vicky heard her mother sigh softly as she got out. She opened the car door and hopped out after unbuckling her seat belt. When she was out, she slammed the door behind her. Her mom rarely slammed the car door. This time it must have been in frustration. Or sadness. Vicky's mom had been trying to get her sadness out slightly by slamming the car door. And though it wasn't hard enough to do any damage- not by any means- it was hard enough to startle Vicky. As she walked to the house, she looked at it, closer than she had ever before.

It was a small house, with beige sides and a black roof. A curving sidewalk looped up to the front patio, which was overhung by part of the roof. Bordering the sidewalk were flowers of all kinds. Purple grape hyacinth, thoughtful violets, graceful rosebushes, pure white daisies, blushing daffodils and lucky clover dotted in between them all, adding a little more green to the arrangement. But Vicky and her mom went in through the side door. They followed the sidewalk that branched to the left and went to the side of the house. It, also, was bordered with flowers. Two bushes were planted there as well.

Out in the back yard it was a sea of lush green grass, and past it trees were everywhere. There were so many of them that you couldn't see past them. Vicky loved walking around in them, following deer paths and weaving in between the different trees. It seemed like every different kind of tree had a different personality.

Birches always seemed shy and feminine. All of them seemed like young maidens, waiting for their prince to come. On the other hand, oaks seemed to be old and wise, the tree you could almost come to for advice. Willows always seemed sad and droopy; pines all seemed dark and mysterious. Maples were hoity-toity, and thought they were above all the other trees. Elms seemed like simpletons, and very humble- the counterpart of the maples. The silver popples that were dispersed throughout seemed outgoing and showy.

Vicky followed her mom. When Vicky's mother went inside she left the door open behind her, knowing that her daughter wouldn't be far behind. When she was inside the house, Vicky closed the door behind her and kicked off her shoes.

It was cool inside, with the air conditioning on already to protect against the hot air outside. Vicky loved that feeling, when she walked into a cool building after being in the hot outside air. It was as if you were starting over, which was always a refreshing feeling.

But she didn't love what she knew her and her mom had to do next; tell Brian, Vicky's dad, about what had happened. Vicky knew it was inevitable, but she hated it none the less. In fact, it almost made her hate it more. It seemed to loom up in the distance, telling Vicky it couldn't be escaped… That no matter what she did, she would have to tell her dad.

"Honey." Brian said, walking over to his daughter. So mom already toldhim. Vicky thought as Brian gave her a hug. It was all she needed; all she needed to break down and cry. And that hug seemed to make everything a reality.

A reality Vicky wished she didn't have to live.