Chapter 1

Cancer

"Hells, are you okay?" Frank asked, looking concerned.

I looked at him, sort of confused. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You dropped your coffee on the table and it went all over your hand." Mikey told me, "You can't feel it?"

"No." I answered. The doctors had told me that this might happen in the final days before I died.

"You're gonna want to run some cold water on that, Hells." Gerard said, sitting down at the table with his lunch. Ray and Bob were right behind him.

"Ouch." Ray said, sitting next to Mikey, "That must have hurt."

"I can't feel anything."

"Always brave. Last week you got guitar burn and didn't even complain." Ray reminded me.

"I remember that." Frank said, "We didn't even know she had it."

I chuckled. "Well I better go and run some water on my hand." I told them, getting up and grabbing my bag, "See you later."

They still didn't know that my cancer had recurred. I didn't want them to be upset while I was dying. I didn't even want to remember what the doctor had told me, but it rang clear in my head.

I was in the oncologist's office waiting for my results.

They had done a CT scan, blood work, spinal tap and nearly every other cancer test known to man.

"Hello, Helena." The doctor said. We were on first name terms. He had been my last oncologist.

"Hey, Ted." I replied.

He sat down behind his desk with all my test results. The look on his face didn't make me feel reassured that everything was alright.

"I'm so sorry…" He started, but he didn't need to finish his sentence; I knew what he was going to say.

"It's recurred." I finished, and began to cry.

All he did was nod. "We can give you chemo again, but all it will do is give you a few more months more than you already have."

"There's nothing that you can do?"

"The cancer's too aggressive this time. It's in your brain, lungs, heart, stomach and liver." He told me, "You'll find that sometimes you won't be able to feel some things, like touch or pain when the end starts to come.

"You won't be able to run or ice skate in competitions anymore, but you'll be able to walk and play your instruments. Don't push yourself though. The more you do, the sicker you'll get."
"Okay."

"Do you want to have the chemo?"

"No. And I don't want to live in the hospital again. When I get too sick to do anything by myself, then I shall come to the hospital and stay here until my end."

"Okay, but you will have to come in for tests to see how far it's spread."

I had to tell them at some point, so I ran my hand under some cold water and walked back to the hall. They were still there, to my relief, and I went and sat down again.

"The hand's looking better." Bob commented, and everybody agreed with him.

Tears formed in my eyes. They were going to be so hurt.

"What's wrong, Hells?"

"You can tell us anything, you know? We'll always be here for you."

The tears escaped from my eyes. "T-the cancer's come b-back."

They sat in shock for a couple of minutes, not quite knowing what to say or do.

"They can give you chemo and you'll get better again."

I shook my head. "Chemo won't work this time. It's too aggressive. I already can't feel some things."

"How long have you known about this? And what does it have to do with you not being able to feel?" Ray asked.

More tears fell.

"It's not just in my liver this time. It's in my stomach, lungs, heart and… and my brain."

They then realized why I couldn't feel the pain when I got guitar burn and dropped the coffee.

"So… You're gonna die?" Mikey asked. He'd always been the more child-like of us all.

I nodded. "You remember last time I got sick?" I asked and he nodded, "And I said that the Black Parade would look after me?"

"You said that you would be the saviour of the broken, the beaten and the damned."

"That's right, and I promise you that I will defeat my demons and all the non-believers." I told him.

He looked up at me, tears filling his hazel eyes. "I don't want you to die." He sobbed.

"It's gonna be fine, Mikes. My time here is over, but you have a long, happy life here. You'll get married, and have kids and go on tour as the bassist of My Chemical Romance."
"But it's not gonna be the same without you though."

Mikey got up and left the hall; not bothering to pick up his rubbish and put it in the bin.

I got up and went after him. If I could have run, I would have; but I was too weak.

I walked to the Orange Blossom tree behind the college. All of us came here when we were upset or just needed to think.

"You know you shouldn't run away like that?" I shouted, making him jump.

"You could have run after me."

"I can't, Mikes. I can just about walk."

He looked up at me, shock in his eyes. "Is that how bad it is?"

"Yes." I answered, sitting down next to him, "I didn't want you guys to be upset. That's why I didn't say anything till now."

He started crying again and I wrapped my arms around him, bringing him into a hug.

"Why do you have to leave me, Hells?" He sobbed into my shirt, hugging me back, "Why can't you stay with us?"

"I wish I could stay with you, Mikes. I really do."

His tears started to stain my red shirt, but I didn't care. I loved him more than a friend, but had never had the courage to say anything to him.

I started singing 'Hells Bells' by 'AC/DC' to him. It was the nickname he had given me when we'd first met, and I thought it might help calm him down.

Halfway through the song he interrupted me. I immediately stopped singing to listen to him.

"When did you find out that you had cancer again?" He asked.

"I found out a couple of months ago when I got in from my morning run." I answered.

"Was that the day when you collapsed as soon as you got in?"

"Yes. That was the most painful hospital visit ever."

I felt him chuckle on my shoulder. Feeling him laugh made me want to laugh as well.

He laughed a little more and I couldn't help it anymore, and began laughing with him.

"Just remember me as I was, Mikey." I told him, "I don't want to be remembered as sad and crying. I want to be remembered as happy and smiling through the tough times."
He nodded. "I will, Hells. And I always will remember you like that; bright, violet eyes, beautiful, fun to be with and a kick-ass collection of music and instruments."

"Thanks." I said, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek.

We stayed like this for a couple more minutes before I said, "I'm gonna miss you the most, Mikes."

"How long do you have left, Hells?" He asked.

"They said I had about two weeks. Maybe less. They can't be sure." I answered truthfully, hoping I hadn't made him even more upset than he already was.