Notes: This story is going to be filled to the top with extreme angst and will only be 13 chapter, so it'll be fast paced. I'm not going to go very deep in the talk about the disease so please don't message me about how wrong I am. I'll be doing my best, thank you. It will also jump around between Manny's, Brad's and Randy's POVs, so watch out for that, though it will be clearly labled. Chapter One is only in Manny's POV for obvious reasons. Ignore the mistakes and enjoy!
Warning: Language and Talk of Death.
Summary: Their friend was dying and there was nothing they could do to help her.
Disclaimer: I do not own Home Improvement, nor any of the characters from it. I do own Manny and her parents and anyone else I throw in randomly.
Reminder: Please review!

Amanda's POV

I ducked through the hole in the fence separating my house from my neighbors, the Taylor's. That hole had been there the entire time I had been living next door to them and it always surprised me that Mr. Taylor had never fixed it.

I had been living next door to them since I was about six or seven. Either Mr. Taylor didn't know it was there or he never got around to fixing it. This was a good thing for me. That would mean I would have to go around to get to their backyard.

For a while, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor thought me being alone on their porch swing was strange, but after about a year of me and my family getting to know them better, they'd wave out the back door and go on doing whatever they were doing.

I know that what I just told you sounded weird, so I should probably mention that I was good friends with the two older Taylor boys, Brad and Randy. I'm not even sure about how we became friends. One day we didn't know each other and the next BAM! we were best friends.

That is, of course, until we hit middle school. We made other friends, but we were still really good friends.

Once when we were about ten, we were playing some game by this really big hill (not Dead Mans Curve, a smaller hill, but not by much) and tripped and fell halfway down. One minute I was falling and the next I heard Brad yelling "Manny!" instead of Amanda or Hawthorne (which is my last name and what they rarely called me) because Manny was faster to say I guess.

So the guys started calling me Manny instead of Amanda. They were the only ones. Everyone else called me Amanda, so it was like an inside joke between the three of us, and occasionally Mark when Brad and Randy were in good moods.

The sun was starting to go down. It was late and I needed to get away from my parents for a little while. I sat down on the porch swing and moved it a little.

Mrs. Taylor saw me out of the window and waved. I returned the gesture halfway. Once she turned away, I leaned my head back and moved the swing faster.

It was only about two or three minutes later I heard, "You're going to break the swing."

I jumped a little and looked in the direction of the voice. It was Randy. "Sorry."

Randy came over and sat down next to me. I wanted to tell him what was on my mind. I needed someone to know besides my parents but I couldn't tell them.

We sat in silence for a while. I saw Randy look over at me a few times. The look on his face surprisingly annoyed me even though he was only worried. I think that's why I didn't want to tell them. I didn't want their sympathy and their constant worry. I was getting that from my parents.

"Are you okay?" Randy finally asked, leaning back and putting his hands in his lap.

I turned to look at him. "I'm fine." I lied.

Just then Brad walked outside with a bowl in his hand. "Hey Manny." He plopped down on the other side of me.

There was spaghetti in the bowl, my all-time favorite food since I was four. My stomach growled and I mentally kicked myself for it.

Brad saw me looking at his bowl. He held it out slightly to me. "What some?"

Oh boy, did I want some of it. But the doctor told me not to eat or drink anything after seven o'clock and it was eight.

"I can't." I told him.

Brad and Randy exchanged looks. "Why not?"

I put my head in my hands. "Because it's after seven." I moved my head and placed it on top of my hands, my elbows on my knees.

"You're not on some kind of diet, are you?" Brad asked.

I shook my head. "I…have to have tests done in the morning and the doctor told me not to eat after seven o'clock."

I closed my eyes before leaning back. When we were younger, all three of us could literally lay on the swing and still have room. But then Brad grew about two feet and Randy and I about one foot each so just sitting together on the swing was proving difficult.

"You only need to not eat for really serious tests…" Randy trailed off and I swallowed hard. I knew what was coming. "Manny, what happened?" He asked.

I didn't want to tell them. I did, but I didn't. That doesn't even make sense.

"Nothing." I said quietly.

"Amanda, seriously." Brad said.

Brad never used my full name unless he was angry or being completely serious. This was one of those times I didn't know which one it was.

"I don't want to talk about it." I told them. I did want to talk about it, but I didn't.

I hate to admit it, but I was scared.

"You're not going to die, though, right?" I think Randy meant that to lighten up the mood, but I stood up and walked a few steps without even thinking about it.

"You aren't dying…are you?" Brad asked, sounding serious.

I turned around to look from Brad to Randy before looking past them

"…I don't know yet." I whispered.