Her dads made her sit in the wheelchair until they reached their SUV. She rolled her eyes and protested, but they had insisted she was too weak to walk.
"I'm going to school, and I'm not going to be in a wheelchair then!" she informed them, as they pushed her back down into the stupid contraption. Not that she had anything against people in wheelchairs- she just didn't need one. They groaned and grudgingly gave the wheelchair back to the hospital. The rest of the car ride home was tense and silent.
She stayed in her bedroom for the remainder of Sunday, walking around idly and staring in the mirror.
Her eyes were rimmed red and had purplish bags underneath them. She was paler than usual, and her clothes were getting baggier each day. When she pulled off her sweater she could see her spine under her skin, and pale bruises dappling her shoulders, arms, and back.
She ran a warm bath and sat in it for hours, knees pulled in close to her body, desperately trying to keep herself from falling apart.
Monday morning she let herself sleep until seven, then pulled on her clothes. She prayed people wouldn't notice the bruises around her knees and thighs as she pulled on a skirt that had previously been too small, a plain white v-necked tee shirt, and an extremely baggy red cardigan. She let her hair fall curly down her back, and ignored her wavy bangs. She surprised her dads when she ate bacon. It was kosher, or course, but it was meat. She'd decided last night to give up being vegan, until she went into remission.
She was fooling herself, and it was working.
They'd tried to get her to let one of them drive her to school, but she hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and insisted she could do it. She wasn't showing up for school in a silver SUV when she had her cherry roadster to drive.
She was struggling with multiple textbooks and reduced strength when they bombarded her.
Three red slushies, covered her from head to toe, and she hadn't thought to bring a change of clothes. She miserably shed the red sweater and a couple of the jocks gasped as the bruises on her arms showed.
"Woah Gleek, who finally gave you a beat down?"
It hurt, inside and out. The iciness from the slushie affected her a great deal more now- she was more sensitive to temperatures. She felt like snapping cancer, but she ignored him, trying to stop the tears pooling in her eyes. He noticed, and looked awkward as he shuffled away, his neandrethal friends following stupidly.
She found a three quarter sleeve sweater in her locker, and quickly pulled it on over the stained shirt, wiping away the tears. She threw out her socks and went to the bathroom to wash off her shoes.
She was drained when she finally reached the bathroom, and collapsed, unable to move. She curled up and sobbed, letting the hopelessness of her situation wash over her. Sometime during what felt like the hours she'd been there, she felt someone shake her awake.
"Rachel? Rachel! Are you okay?"
Her eyes fluttered open weakly, and a scared Ms. Pillsbury was crouching over her.
"Um, lets get you to the nurse..."
With Ms. Pillsbury supporting her, she managed to get to the little office. When the teacher turned to leave, she grabbed her hand.
"Could you stay with me?" she asked quietly. Emma looked down at the pale, small girl and bit her lip.
"What happened to you Rachel?"
Rachel smiled sadly, and closed her eyes. It was time to tell the first person.
"Cancer."