"So then it's definitely Cancer?" my father asked the strange doctor guy dressed in one of those lab coats. My mother's hand flew up to her mouth and chocked back her tears trying to stay in control of herself despite her emotions. My father stepped forward with a blank face and put a protective hand around my mother's shoulders.

"We-," the doctor hesitated, "We're not sure what she has. It could be that cancer is just a symptom of the real problem. All we are certain of is that the cancer is progressing to fast to treat. I'm sorry." The man spoke with sympathy towards my parents.

A deafening silence hung between the three of them as the dreaded question was left hanging in the air at the tip of their tongues like a bad taste.

The word's came out ugly to me, full of grimace and exhaustion… and regret.

"How much time does she have?"

There it was the lines I didn't want to hear.

I placed my hands over my ears feeling the tug of my IV. It wasn't enough to keep out the sound.

"4 days, a week at the most."

My father's postured dropped from his business mode and he squeezed my mother's shoulder reassuringly.

"Thank you doc…"

The doctor gave a short curt nod and fled our small family to continue his work. My mother reached for my father's hand and squeezed it.

"What are we going to do Claudia? I don't know what to do anymore… we can't, we can't-"he broke off and looked down casted.

"I love her George. I don't know if I can bear to think without her, we'll never see her grow up… we can be there for her... that's all we can do at this point." She spoke bravely.

I turned over away from this dramatic scene. It was too much to me. So what? I was dying. No one and nothing was going to change that. I don't need pity. My life was cut short, it wasn't so bad. Besides the pain and the fuzz from the drugs and being bed ridden it wasn't all that bad. I was still alive for now, and now that's all that really mattered. I felt a pang of irritation rise in my chest towards my parents.

I hated it. I hated being like this. I hated doing this to everybody. I hated that the drawn out dramatic scene just outside my door was because of me. I hated so much that I could nothing. Nothing and useless was how I felt. Just some dying kid.

My eyes clamped shut and I drifted off to sleep… is this where you go when your dying?