My new favourite song…'Thriller' by Michael Jackson.

Yeah, that one totally kicked 'God Bless Texas's' butt…but learning the moves is SO HARD!!! It's like 'High School Musical' all over again, only faster and I don't have someone to teach me how to do the moves…

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My back began to ache from sitting against the hard wooden chair in the kitchen as the priest doctor had been furiously summoned, and was diagnosing me.

He sat in silence staring at my face, and I stared boldly back at him until he broke the connection, looking down at his hands.

"Well?" Gramma asked sharply, and I looked over at her.

For the past hour or two she had paced the parlor furiously, while slowly inside my mind, things started to finally click. I started first by understanding why I was at this house…why Jack had been there when I woke, and why everyone was fussing over me.

I recalled why my chest would ache from time to time, although I still couldn't figure out what brought on the spasmodic bursts of pain that sent me into coughing fits, but I could remember everything else, like about how I was married to Lord Licorice, but yet I was in love with Jack.

"You see, Madame Nutt…uh…I'm not sure how to say it…" the Priest said, reluctantly looking her in the face.

I hadn't told anyone that I knew anything, because this just didn't seem the proper time for any of it. Something else was wrong with me, something that Gramma wouldn't tell me, and wouldn't give me the handkerchief that she clutched in her hands.

"Just say it." Jack said, and Gramma nodded her head "Just say it." she echoed.

"Genny is...going to…die."

Simultaneously mine and Gramma's faces paled.

"I'm what?" I asked, my voice sounding oddly calm, the opposite of my mind.

"I'm sorry to break it so brusquely..."

"What's wrong with me?" I interrupted suddenly.

The priest looked awkward as he explained that I had consumption, a disease that caused sufferers to cough up blood and experience chest pains, and would, he paused and swallowed before continuing, be fatal.

He excused himself, saying that he must go, and left us to cope with the news.

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More terribly short chapters…gosh; if this was an actual book it would be freakishly short.

Seriously, I would REALLY like some reviews!