Don't Wake Me Up

Chapter One: Shock

Life is a journey. An arduous, demanding, exciting and joyful journey. Some journeys start from the moment you are born, others don't start until you have the courage to defy the natural of order of things. And the goal of each journey is ultimately the same: to find oneself.

My journey started in not the most promising of places: in a hospital bed.

The day before my life really began was quite a rainy one. I was sitting on the window seat of my apartment, snuggled up in a couple of warm blankets, reading the dog-eared pages of a book. Having spent my whole life in sunny Southern California, I always took advantage of my time in the rain by staring at it longingly from the comfort of the indoors through a windowpane.

Pretty lame, I know. Getting soaked to the skin just didn't do it for me, though. I definitely preferred the snow.

Taking a sip of hot cocoa from one hand, I ran my spindly fingers over the smooth pages with the other, basking in the calm clarity that reading brought to me. I took a deep breath and tapped the backs on my fingernails against the glass of the window, synchronizing them with the refreshing tap, tap, tap of the rain on the pavement outside.

"ELSA!" My brother's booming voice erupted from down the hall, pulling me from my stupor. Too lazy to form any coherent words to answer him, I hummed through my teeth, "Mmhm?"

He peaked his head in the doorway to my room and pushed himself tentatively inside. In comparison to my tiny room, he was a hulking, blonde giant. Next to my petite build, we looked practically nothing alike. "Do you need to use the car today?" He asked quietly, forcing his eyes to the ground, clearly hoping my answer would be no.

"Yeah I need it to get to skating practice." His face fell to a discouraged frown. I hesitated, feeling sorry for dashing his hopes for whatever plans he had made. "But you can just drop me off if you want." I smiled encouragingly. "As long as you promise to remember to pick me up…this time." I said with a dry humor in my voice, recalling the many times he had forgotten obligations to pick me up from my classes or work.

He laughed and nodded eagerly. "Thanks, sis."

"Anytime, Kris." I smiled. "We'll leave in about ten minutes, is that ok?"

"Sounds good!" he hollered behind himself, practically skipping out of the room.

It was always such a give and take with Kristoff. I mean, it kind of had to be. Three years prior, our parents had passed away in a nasty car wreck when a drunk driver ran a red light and t-boned their car. Being the oldest, even if by only a year, I was forced to be the strong one. The one to suck it up and move on. And the one who didn't have time for grief and mourning because I had to take the family reigns and support my little brother in every way possible. Three years later, I still felt the need to go easy on him.

The car ride to the rink was doused in Kris' classic rock blasting from the crappy speakers. I wasn't really paying attention, though. I was too busy focusing on the rain droplets as they raced each other down the car window.

"Have a good practice," he told me as he pulled up to the curb.

"I'll see you back here at four o'clock sharp, right?" I asked him, lifting my eyebrows to emphasize the point.

He raised his hand to his temple and saluted me military style. "Yes ma'am," he said before hugging me goodbye.

I reveled in how empty the rink was as I strapped on my Riedell skates, lacing them up as tight as I could. The release I felt when I took my first step out onto the ice was like no other. Skating felt like flying to me. It was the sort of sensation that made me forget all the tragedy I faced and the responsibility that constantly weighed upon my shoulders.

At least, that's how it usually felt. After about ten minutes of warming up, my head started to spin. A migraine waned its way into the right side of my head and progressed to the bridge of my nose. Determined not to let this affect my practice, however, I went in for my first jump of the day.

THUD. I landed hip first on the ice and had the wind knocked out of me. Trying to catch my breath, I sat up and started feeling even woozier. The more I tried to move, the more my body was drained of energy. That was when my migraine spread across to my entire head and my vision darkened. Starting to panic, I tried to get back up onto my skates, but to no avail.

The last thing I remember before passing out was how cold the ice felt on my bare palms and the soft pitter patter of the rain from outside.

I woke up the next morning in that fated hospital bed.

It took a lot of effort to get my eyes open, like someone had taped them shut. The first ray of dull light that hit my eyes stung mercilessly on my corneas. I squinted and blinked, trying to get a good look at my surroundings. I could still hear rain outside, but it was almost completely drowned out by the slow and steady beeping coming from my heart monitor. I tried to turn over further, but the needle in my arm seared with pain, making me very aware of how confined I was.

Beside me in this foreign environment sat my brother, asleep in the most uncomfortable looking position in the small chair next to my bed. "Kris," my voice barely rasped out. I cleared my throat. "Kristoff!"

"Wha-huh?" He said, startled awake. "Elsa, you're awake! Oh thank goodness." He grabbed my hand and pressed the nurse call button. His smile quickly faded into a weary look, as if he knew what I was about to ask.

"What happened? Why am I here?" I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to calm my head, which still felt like it was spinning. Yet again, that might have been the effect of whatever they were giving my through the IV.

"You feinted at the rink yesterday and an ambulance brought you here. The doctor said he would be running some blood tests, but they still don't know what's wrong."

"Oh don't do the sad puppy dog thing with your eyes. I'm probably fine!" I said, trying to reassure him, but not so confident myself. "I must have just not eaten enough yesterday or something."

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by an incoming nurse.

"Oh sweetie! Good to know you are awake!" she said in an overly cheery tone. She was so sickeningly happy, just looking at her felt like I had eaten too much warm frosting. "Good timing too, the doctor has your test results and he will be in momentarily."

She stood there just smiling at us for a good thirty seconds before realizing that neither of us was in the mood to respond. "Well alright then, can I get you anything?"

I shook my head, mustering up the energy to curl half of my mouth into a smile. "No, thanks."

"Ring if you do." She said as she walked towards the door. She paused, though, remembering something suddenly and said "we don't have much available room, so you are going to have to share your room with someone who was just admitted. I hope you don't mind." Not wanting to wait awkwardly for another answer, she left us alone.

A few minutes later, hospital attendants rolled another bed in and set up a heart monitor and IV drip for an unmoving form. From what I could see, it was a red-haired girl who appeared to be peacefully at rest. Her face was so calm and beautiful; it looked as if she was posing for a magazine cover about sleep or something. What was surprising though, is that when they picked her up to change her pillowcase, she was still limp in the attendant's arms.

"Is she in a coma?" Kristoff asked before I had the chance to do so myself.

"Sadly, yes." Was all the attendant said before leaving us with this mysterious girl in a coma.

Moments later, a stern looking, thin man with salt-and-pepper hair entered the room in scrubs and held a clipboard tightly to his chest. "Hi, I'm Doctor Denove," He said as he firmly shook our hands. "I see you have met your suitemate, Anna." He gestured towards the redhead.

Bringing his clipboard out in front of him, he said, "I'm afraid the news I'm about to give you isn't good at all."

My breath hitched in my throat. Kris grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

"The tests I ran came back with an unusually high white blood cell count."

I tried to remember from high school biology what it meant when the ratio of red to white blood cells was off. It had been years since I learned it though. Damn me for being a liberal arts major, I thought to myself.

"What does that mean?" Kristoff demanded, worry seeping into his gruff demeanor.

"I'm sorry to say that it means you have Acute Myeloid Leukemia."

"Cancer." Kristoff said in utter disbelief under his breath.

My heart stopped.