Author's Note: Well, ladies and gentlemen, I have finally mustered up enough typed pages of Zoey 101 goodness to share with all of you loving, loving people. ...Isn't it GREAT?! Okay, so tell the truth: Didja miss meh? XD All right, all right. I'll move onward. Well, here's a brand, spanking new chapter ficcie for your reading pleasure! I was approached by Boris Yeltsin a few weeks ago with a certain request in mind, so I complied and here is the end result! Just so you know, it's kinda heavy. If you don't like to read about drug usage, innuendos of sexual intercourse, death, violence, or if you're easily offended by swear words, this fic is NOT for you. Press your back button and get outta here! Do whatever it takes, but do NOT leave a nasty review. Because I will haunt you in your sleep. ...Or something. ANYWAY, read on, good people!

PROLOGUE

3:23 pm - Pacific Standard Time

Cancer. It was nothing but a mere word, just like any other in the English language. It contained six letters and had two syllables. But that was never what was most important. No. Its connotation is more devastating that the word itself. Because along with cancer came the anguish, the confusion, and of course, the endless tears.

Feeling a strangely numbing sensation travel from the tips of her perfectly manicured nails to the paling cheeks of her expressionless face, Zoey Brooks subconsciously allowed her feet to slide out from under her. With a solid thud, her body met the hardwood floor of her empty apartment and searched for support in the nearest wall.

Her vision began to blur, the tears flooding her hazel eyes threatening to spill over. Zoey put her head, which was throbbing with the ache of too much information between her drawn up knees and willed herself to stay strong. Because that's what Zoey Brooks does. Stay strong, no matter what.

However, the telephone began to emit a high-pitched beeping, signaling that it should be hung up rather quickly. Zoey surprisingly found that it was still firmly located in her left hand, the spiraling cord wrapped around the length of her arm. She dumbly stared at the receiver, recalling its last painful conversation:

"Hello?" she nonchalantly answered, balancing the phone receiver against a shoulder. After several seconds, Zoey furrowed her eyebrows at the lack of a response. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Zoey?" a choked voice finally sounded. "It's me, Dad."

"Dad?" she asked, sensing a problem. "What's going on? What happened?" Zoey knew she had yet to attend her final class of the day within thirty minutes, but at the tone of his voice, all thoughts of UCLA flew right out of her mind.

"You…might wanna sit down for this, sweetie," he answered, using an old and childish nickname. "I have some bad news; it's about your mother."

Zoey tread carefully around the subject, knowing that his news couldn't possibly be about—"Mom? Is she okay? She's fine, right?" Her pulse immediately quickened and she felt her heart beat at a pace that definitely wasn't normal.

"Not exactly, Zo," her father slowly replied, almost fidgeting with nervousness. "It's back. The cancer's back." He deeply exhaled, anticipating her reaction, but as she remained deadly silent, he began with, "I know that the doctor said she would be okay, that it was nothing, but…"

"…Mom's…sick? Again?" she asked, her voice strained with wretched emotion. "But… she was fine, healthy for so long…"

"I know, I know," he said, as if he had also thought of this a million times over. "Dr. Benson said that she had less than a fifty percent chance of this happening, but… it seems as if the odds were against her."

He continued to speak, babbling on as he always did when he felt extremely nervous and apprehensive, but Zoey could no longer hear him. All of a sudden, the blood pulsating throughout her body was the loudest and most audible noise, but throughout the constant pounding, she managed to catch her father's last words: "Zoey…? I-I guess I'll just talk to you soon. Take care. …I love you and Mom does, too."

As the minutes passed by, each slower and more nerve-wracking than the previous, Zoey found the strength to lift her head and adjusted to the bright sunlight streaming through the apartment window. She was dimly aware of the tears that stained both her cheeks, but made no move to wipe them away.

Before another heart wrenching thought could penetrate her mind, Zoey clumsily untangled herself from the phone cord and blindly fumbled for the wooden stand above her. At long last, the phone was back in its cradle and all was silent once more.

The OTHER Author's Note: Yes, that was probably the shortest submission ever posted on this archive, but whatever! It's a prologue, people. They're supposed to short and mysterious and... I dunno, prologue-ish. Leave a review and make sure to stay tuned, my lovelies!

-Sin