Chapter 1:
I hate waking up.
It's not like I have to wake up; it's not like I have a need to wake up.
Clearly, in my sake, it's a waste of time.
I'm going to die anyway.
--
But like most people, I get up from bed. Awake. And alive. Still. I don't want to die, really who does? Well, maybe some people who are ready but I'm not ready. I'm only seven-teen. Sure, people have died younger than me but I'm not ready. I'm not even ready to become an organ donor if I die. Not like anyone would want my organs.
I can't believe I have to go to school. I mean, I'm not going to have a future at all. My future will be buried in dirt. Plus, I'm also doing those rotten classmates of mine a favour. They don't like me and I surely don't like them. They're all idiots, wastes of time and disgraces to humanity. Sure, I'm popular. I might as well leave high school with a bang; a little mark so people would remember me. Obviously, they would remember me as that bitch; that drama bitch.
I give myself a few more years to live. I'll probably die before I start college. I might as well not even bother with college since I'm going to croak at any second. Boy, I do sound bitter but I am. My dreams, which I shouldn't have had, are all gone. I'll never become famous, I'll never win an award and I'll never have a true love.
"Shar?" a voice called from outside the bathroom door.
"What?!" I snapped back to my twin brother, Ryan.
"You're taking quite a while in there. Is there anything wrong?"
I sighed. I'm a girl. What a moron. "I'm a freakin' girl, Ry! I need time in here! God."
"I was just worrying..."
"Well, can you stop? You can't keep protecting me! Especially when I'm in the Goddamn bathroom!" I replied. I know it's sorta too early to get worked up but I hate having people watch over my back all the time. I'm dying! I'm going to die, whether they like it or not. It's not something they decide.
Can't they get that through their thick heads?
--
Ryan says I wake up on the wrong side of the bed too often. What does he expect? For me to wake up all happy and cheery, like that Montez girl? God, she annoys me. She's a freakin' girl version of Ryan. Why should I be happy when I know what's going to happen to me in a year?
Two years, tops.
I don't need friends.
It just makes things way harder. Especially saying goodbye.
God, I hate 'em.
My parents always bid me farewell with tears in their eyes. Like school's going to kill me. Technically these stupid sickness is going to kill me. But I guess I can understand them. I could die at anytime.
Suddenly that one year sounds super far away.
Ever since my condition has gotten worse, so the doctor's say and so my parents think, Ryan has been baby-ing me around. I'm the older one, I should be taking care of him.
Sure, it's only by six minutes.
He won't let me drive my car. I have to go in his Mustang, which isn't even a convertable. And I always thought fresh air was good for you. I guess I was wrong.
--
Today in health class, we watched some documentary about leukemia. It was about two sisters who looked completely different from another yet they were very similar. Some bone marrow transplant saved the other sister's live. Well, for a while it worked. Once she knew she was dying, again, she decided to have fun. To experience everything she could think of.
She died on her birthday.
Then we learned more stuff on cancer and such.
I don't have cancer.
Ryan told me to experience stuff like the girl did.
Forget it, I replied. I'm going to die, I'm not going to an amusement park or something.
"You can be really bitchy," he told me one day. "So many people would love to be in your position. To still be able to have fun!"
"How can I have fun when I know I'm going to die! It's like celebrating my own funeral!"
"Shar-"
"Just shut up, Ryan! You don't know what it feels like. You don't know what it feels like to keeping thinking that today could be your last day. To fall asleep and think that you could never wake up..."
"Then every morning when you wake up, you should thank God for still being alive."
I scoffed. "Why should I thank him?! Every time I wake up, I have another day of fearing my death..."
"I don't get you! You give yourself a year to live but now you fear your death everyday?!"
I sent him a glare. Doesn't he know anything? "Yeah, that's if nothing goes wrong! Any little thing could lead to my death. A single cold could..."
After that, we've never really discussed it. Must be too hard on him.
--
The Spring Musicale is coming up.
Most people think I'm going to try out.
I'm not.
I want to live my life relaxed.
I don't want to perform on stage with no one watching me and if people do. I don't want to be boo-ed off the stage. Montez and Troy could have the leads again.
People love them more.
Sometimes, when I'm in my day dream state, I wonder what it would be like if Gabriella was to die. I don't wish it. I don't wish my state on anyone, not even her.
People would mourn for her for days, even years. Troy would definitely miss her. I bet he wouldn't marry or see another girl. He's loyal like that. Plus, he's totally in love with her.
They're like soul-mates. I'm bitter about it, sure. Who wouldn't want Troy Bolton as their soul-mate? But I'm going to die anyway, he might as well be with someone who could live up to eighty.
Kelsi often askes me what's wrong? I think she knows something's wrong with me. Mom and dad say I look quite pale. I've noticed that too. Covering myself up with make-up helps a lot.
But Kelsi still sees through it. I guess she would know since she knows me the best. After my family, of course.
"You look different today, Sharpay," Taylor told me. I was in the washroom, looking at my horrid reflection.
I didn't answer. I don't talk to Taylor. Why start now? It's a little to late to make friends with her.
"You look quite sad, actually."
"Huh?"
"I don't mean hideous, Sharpay!" Taylor defended her previous statement. I'm not blonde, well, my mind isn't blonde. "I mean, you aren't that perky anymore. You've changed, quite a bit. You seem a bit, well, no offence, dead."
I left.
It's like she knew me. Like she knew what's happening to me.
She's right, I wasn't perky.
But I was just hiding my sadness. I found it tiring always being fake.
--
Home is where the heart is.
Home is also where I'll spend my last days.
No way they're going to lock me up in some hospital.
I want to die here. Die where I feel most comfortable at.
"Hi, Sharpay," Troy said to me. He lives next door. "I've haven't seen you around lately. And it's surprising since you usually, bother, I mean talk to me a lot. Well, you used to."
Bother him? Of course. Why bother him again?
"If I bother you so much, you shouldn't bother saying 'hi' to me anymore."
"Oh... Well, nice talking to you."
Liar.
To think, I wanted to have kids with him.
Such childish dreams I use to have.
Freakin' worthless dreams.
Speaking of dreams. It's time for me to have some.
Another day gone, a day less to live.
God, I'm going to hate waking up tomorrow. Again. Maybe alive. Still.
Enjoy.