Chapter 1: No Suprises

There are some days where people open their eyes and truly appreciate the things around them. Even the simple things, the way the birds sing in the morning, the color of the leaves on a tree. Well I do that every day. I learned a long time ago not to take things for granted, no matter how insignificant they seem. Because I know that one day, it could be ripped away from me without the slightest warning.

I've been sick for as long as I can remember. While the other little girls went to ballet classes, I went to doctor's appointments. Countless appointments and endless treatments have filled my life. Each having the same results, driving my ever persistent parents to try harder. I accepted a long time ago that I was going to die, but not them. I've been dragged all over the country in hopes of finding a cure. Nothing works, but we've retired to Washington for a while, in a tiny town called Forks. Apparently there's some doctor that works miracles. Dr. Cullen or something.

We pulled up in the single car driveway. The house is small but homey. Light blue side paneling covers the exterior and you can see the dark forest around the borders of the yard. There's a red door in between two windows at the front of the house with three windows at the top. I hopped out of the car, the smell of rain filling my nose. Rain was always a bad thing. Rain meant cold and cold meant sickness. Even a common cold could spiral out of control and put me in the hospital. But rain to me was relaxing. The soft sound of it on the roof always calmed me when I tried to sleep at night and everything would smell fresh and clean the next morning.

To avoid the shivers that I knew would soon wrack my body, I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head and zipped it up to my neck. I always felt cold. I was too thin for a fifteen year old girl, the treatment being the cause of that. I sometimes wondered if I had the chance to live a normal life and let my hair grow long and maintain a normal weight, would I be pretty. I guess I could consider myself plain. Brown, pin straight hair and green eyes. My eyes were, in my opinion, my best feature. It wasn't the thick layer of lashes around them, but the color. They were moss green with swirls of blue and brown in them. They looked a lot like marbles to me. Other than my eyes, though, I was plain jane. My little brother bounced up and down around my feet in his six year old giddiness. Ah the joys of being young.

"Are you excited there Jay?" I asked, giggling.

"My name's not Jay! It's Luke Skywalker!" he protested.

Jay was like my comical relief in life. Truth be told, he was born for his cord blood. I desperately needed it when I was nine years old, and so my mom gave birth to that little butt munch. He was always saying the most random and unexpected things and making me laugh my head off. I never had that sibling grudge, I was glad when he was born because my parents fussed over me a little less. He's been my one and only friend through this whole mess. I never stayed in one school long enough to make any permanent friends and I didn't have any social skills what so ever. Also, for the record, the word "boyfriend" is not in my vocabulary. Just wanted to clear that up.

"I get to pick my room!" Jay sang, running through the house.

I giggled and gave myself a personal tour of the new abode. When you entered the house, you walked straight into the living room. Everything was already furnished. There was a dark green couch sitting on the faded brown carpet. The mahogany coffee table matched the crown molding on the walls and floors. I mentally jumped for joy when I saw the flat screen on the wall. To the right was the kitchen/ dining room. There was a lot of counter space for my mom who loved to cook and a stove big enough to fit six pots at one time. There was a half bathroom attached with a pink toilet. I knew my mom would probably have a problem with that, but I thought it was awesome! Who doesn't love a pink toilet?

Moving upstairs, I could see my brother had already had his pick of the bedrooms. It was painted blue and there were bunk beds. Yep, this room belonged to Jay. My room was bigger with a full bed. The walls were white, which I knew I would soon be changing. My room was located near the back of the house, so there was a window overlooking the forest. I opened the window to let a breeze into the room and saw that I could easily have to climb on to the roof and have enough room to sit. I decided I would have to try that sometime.

"Chrissie have you seen the- Chrissie! Why is your window open?" mom yelled, slamming my window shut so hard the glass quivered.

"Jeez mom, I just wanted some air," I mumbled, falling onto my bed.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. That's how you knew she was stressed, she pinched her nose. My mom was always stressed, though. Her hair had turned grey because of it, despite the fact that she was only thirty-six. I always knew it was my fault, but I would never say it out loud. Didn't need more counseling for depression.

"Chrissie, do you want to get sick again?" she whispered.

I instantly felt guilty. I'd been on remission for a month now, but my parents were on the edges of their seats, just waiting for some sign that my cancer had returned. Yes that's right, cancer. Leukemia to be exact. I had learned to accept it a long time ago, but every time I got re-diagnosed, it was another stab to the heart for mom and dad. I knew they blamed themselves, no matter how hard I tried to convince them otherwise.

"I'm sorry mom," I whispered, getting up and wrapping my arms around her. She squeezed me lightly and let go. When she pulled away I saw there were tears in her eyes. She blinked them back and I pretended I hadn't seen.

"How do you feel?" she asked quietly.

"Healthy as a horse!" I said happily.

Mom smiled lightly and placed a kiss on my cheek before leaving the room.

I glared at my quesadilla. How long could one quesadilla take to heat up! The oven was turned all the way, but the tortilla still felt cold.

"Come on come on come on!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air.

"Talking to inanimate objects again I see," dad laughed, joining me in the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes and stifled a giggle, "I've been waiting for like fifteen minutes!"

"Sweetheart, the gas hasn't been turned on yet. It's not going to be until tomorrow," dad explained, "but if you want, we could all go out to lunch."

"No we cannot," mom warned, storming into the kitchen to join us, "Chrissie has a doctor's appointment in twenty minutes. We can go out after if you'd like."

I sighed, "Okay mom."

The anticipation was radiating off my parents the entire way to the hospital. I felt the tiniest bit of angst, but I either had cancer of I didn't. I'd been through this a hundred times before. My brother, being the enthusiastic six year old he is, tried to lighten the mood with his chatter. His voice was so high pitched and cute that I couldn't help but smile when he talked.

"And then me and C3PO flied all the way to the moon!" he exclaimed.

"Well that my dear brother, sounds like a very exciting dream," I said, ruffling his hair.

"It was!" he gushed.

"But how did you fly?" I asked, trying to keep up his enthusiasm. He didn't need to be brought down by my parents.

"Hmm, oh yeah! I grew wings!"

"Like an angel?" I giggled.

"No sissy. Angels aren't real," he said seriously.

"Of course they're real silly. They live with god up in heaven."

"God isn't real. If god was real, he wouldn't have made you sick," Jay said.

My mom nearly crashed the car. I would have, too if I had been driving. That was the last thing I'd ever expected to come out of my little brother's mouth. He went to church with us every Sunday, he'd been attending Sunday school for three years now! I took his face in my hands and looked him directly in the eye.

"Jay, God is real," I said sternly.

"No sissy! God is supposed to care about everyone, but he made you sick, so he's not real!"

"Jay, you know God does everything for a reason. He gave us you for a reason. He made me sick for a reason. Never say that God isn't real, because he is," I said.

"How do you know?" he accused.

"Look around Jay. Where do you think the trees came from? Or animals?"

He shrugged, "I guess you're right… Chrissie, do you believe in guardian angels though?"

I thought for a moment, "Yes. I believe in guardian angels. My guardian angel is probably just on vacation or something. Maybe he's back now and I'll stay better."

"I hope so," Jay sighed.

"Me, too," I agreed, kissing his head.

No matter how many needles I've gotten in my fifteen years of existence, I still hate them. Sitting on the crinkly paper, I winced as the nurse drew blood from my arm, one of the many tests I had to endure. I scrunched my face up and the nurse chuckled lightly. Stupid nurse. I didn't like her, with her long blond hair and giant ass boobs. I'd never have that. I sighed in relief when she extracted the needle.

"Can I have a Sesame Street band aid?" I asked her. I may be fifteen, but who doesn't love Big Bird?

The nurse looked at me like I was crazy, but nodded. I gave her a smile, Jay would be so jealous.

"Doctor Cullen will be in soon with the results," Nurse whatever her name is informed my mom and I.

"Thank you," mom said, trying to sound strong. But I knew she would be holding her breath the entire wait.

I counted the zebras on the wallpaper covering the room. Eighteen zebras, twelve lions, and eleven monkeys later, Dr. Cullen came in, holding my medical records. He gave both of us a sympathetic smile. Those were never good. My first thought when I saw him was doesn't he belong in the plastic surgery ward with all the other unnaturally beautiful people. But no. He was my doctor.

"Hi Christina and Mrs. Hope, how are you this evening?" Dr. Cullen asked.

Mom didn't look stable enough to answer, "Just peachy," I said, giving him a fake smile.

He chuckled and opened my medical folder with a sigh, "Chrissie, I would like to talk to your mother. Would you mind leaving the room for a couple of minutes?"

"Can I go to the food court?" I asked him, raising my eyebrow.

"If your mother allows it," he said, smiling at my delighted expression.

"Then hells yes!" I grabbed thirty bucks out of my mom's wallet and sprinted out the door.

Part of me wanted to cry. I wanted to hide in a hole and just wait for death because I knew what Dr. Cullen was telling my mom. Six to twelve months of Chemotherapy, bone marrow transplants, more medical bills than we couldn't handle. I'd been through this before. Nothing came as a surprise anymore. But I needed to stay strong. There needed to be one rational person in our family. I kept my cool as I walked through the bleach smelling hallway and rode down the elevator filled with teary eyes people and determined looking doctors. There better be a big ass Popsicle waiting for me in the food court.

I was not surprised to see the back of my brother's blond head when I reached my destination. Dad and Jay were always hungry. His tiny hands were above his head as he tried to reach the Oreos. Poor kid couldn't even reach his favorite cookies. I skipped quietly over to him and lifted him up. He squealed and giggled when he realized it was me, grabbing the package of cookies off the rack.

"Did you come here alone?" I asked him.

"No, daddy's already sitting down, but he said I could pick out my food all by myself!" Jay gushed.

"Did he now? So are you planning to eat Oreos for lunch?"

He nodded happily.

"I don't think that's a good idea Jay," I warned.

"But I love Oreos!" he pouted.

"How about you can have the Oreos, but you have to have milk with them!" I suggested.

He agreed happily and wandered over to the drink stand. I sighed and looked around, trying to find a freezer where they kept the Popsicles. The dining area was practically deserted apart from a group of Native American boys off in a corner. There were about seven guys, but enough food covering the metal table top to feed an army. I giggled to myself at how quickly they were devouring the food, like they would never be allowed to eat again. I turned back to the task at hand. I approached the freezer and punched the air. They had SpongeBob pops! Maybe my luck was beginning to turn! After purchasing my little piece of heaven, I went to find my dad and brother. As I got closer, I heard Jay's loud voice piercing the air.

"My favorite character is Luke Skywalker!" Jay exclaimed, "He's really good at using a light saber! I was him for Halloween three years in a row!"

I slapped my forehead when I realized my brother was talking to some guy. But not just any guy, a hot guy. My brother would talk to anyone who would listen about Star Wars.

"No way man! Anakin is way better than Luke!" the dude protested.

"Not. True." My brother argued dramatically, "Anakin turns into a villain later! How can you like a villain!"

I scooped my brother up before he could say anything to piss off this very muscular looking guy.

"Jay, what have I told you about talking to people you don't know?" I whispered, then looked up at the guy, "Sorry about my brother, he just a little…"

I trailed off. The guy was looking at me in the strangest way. His eyes were glazed over and his lips were turned up at the corners, like he was trying to smile, but couldn't find the strength to do it. I waited for him to say something, or even move. After thirty seconds of awkward silence, I noticed my brother tugging on my hair.

"Chrissie, it's not polite to stare," he reminded me.

I shook my head and snapped out of whatever daze I was in. Looking over to where my father was sitting, my heartbeat sped up slightly and my stomach dropped. He was talking urgently on his beat up old cell phone, looking paler than usual. That could only mean one thing.

"It was nice meeting you er…"

"Seth!" he said quickly, his face becoming normal again, but there was a smile etched on his lips.

"Seth. Well, sorry about my brother," I said apologetically.

"It was no problem! I love Star Wars and Luke seems really cool," Seth said, stuttering over his words like he'd just had the wind knocked out of him.

"Luke?... Ooh you mean my brother," I laughed lightly, "His name's Jay… not Luke. And I'm Chrissie. Anyways, it was nice meeting you, Seth, but we really should be going."

I turned away from him and sped off, feeling like a bigger fool than usual. My cheeks were hot from the blush and the worst part was, I didn't even get to eat my Popsicle. Without a word, I followed my dad to the elevator and up the floors to find out the results. My mom had the familiar tears on her cheeks and her worry wrinkles looked deeper than before. She was pinching the bridge of her nose and I knew it could only mean one thing.

My Leukemia was back.


Yes, no? Love it, hate it? Should I continue?