so this was an idea i had in my head. If you like it i will update, but maybe not for a while because i have another story i really wanna finish at the moment. This was just something i had to type out, i may continue on.

and really i am not very cancer aware so im sorry if i didn't exactly explain things correctly.

Well this whole story is going to be dedicated to my cousin Kevin (who the character Kevin is based from or what i think he would've been like) he was unfortunately one of the people affected by cancer and he didn't make it. I believe if he got a chance to live then he would turn out like little Kevin in my story.

R.I.P Kevin, i love you.

Prologue

Angels are Watching over Me

It all started with a simple fever and then I started losing weight and felt weaker. I was fourteen at the time and scared when my foster mother told me I had to get checked out. When the doctor asked my foster mother something like, "Did her actual parents or grandparents ever have cancer," I started to shake. I never actually knew my real parents. They gave me up when I was two and was adopted by my mom, well Mrs. Harris is her real name, but I call her mom because I really don't know anyone who could be better than her and my dad. Even though I have light, pale skin while their skin is dark I loved them to death. Their son, my brother, Kevin is two now, but he is related to them by blood while I'm not.

The doctors took some tests and blood samples and about a week later they called. I slowly walked into the living room where my mother was on the phone. She had a smile on at first, but when the doctor on the other line said something bad her expression changed. I knew what this meant…I had cancer, leukemia to be exact.

I didn't spend much time crying because I had to be strong even though I was terrified. My parents told me it was already at level two so I would have to go for chemo therapy to get it treated. It was the end of August and I was supposed to start my first day of high school in the beginning of September. Well after a couple session of chemo…I got really weak and sick. My hair fell out and I couldn't even get out of bed anymore, so this meant I couldn't be a normal kid who gets to go to high school and have a boyfriend. I was stuck in the hospital.

Little did I know that this dull little room would become my home for the next two years. So day in and day out I sat here, waiting for some sort of end or a break, but I never got one. I would watch the TV and wonder why I had to have leukemia. It wasn't fair to my parents. I mean they could've had a normal kid who had a chance to live a full and happy life instead of me who might not even live to have a husband. I had people teach me in bed, which made me feel so helpless, but I was smart, I think. And my little brother would visit me every day and ask if I was going to come home soon and every time I shook my head and said, "I don't know."

As time passed by I hoped for a miracle. The cancer was eating me away and I could barely even stand to look at myself anymore because the sight of me scared me. I was dying and I knew it, my parents knew it, I even tried to explain to my little brother that the angels were going to take me away soon and I told him to take care of mommy and daddy for me. He was a bright little kid and he was always happy, I couldn't have asked for a better sibling.

A couple more weeks past, then months, and then I turned seventeen. It was right after my chemo therapy session that the doctor came into the room with a smile on his face. It was good news I hoped.

"Say goodbye to the chemo Ali, you're cancer free," he told me.

I looked at him dazed and confused. Was he joking with me? But then he told my parents so I knew he wasn't. I rejoiced from the news, thinking that all those years of struggle were gone and I could live a normal life. Maybe I could even eventually go to school back in my hometown.

When my parents walked into the room they both sat on either side of my bed, "The doctors said in about a month you could come home Ali," my eyes lit up with joy at the word home. I missed everything about it, the smells, my puppy I had just gotten that Kevin named Buddy, and my old room. But I knew some things have probably changed, like me and the little town I live in called La Push. I mean the people were probably different. The Indian tribe may or may not still be there, but who knows. I was just excited that I didn't have to stay in this bed for the rest of my days. I mean who knows maybe I could actually live a full life. Maybe I could find my old self again and know that things would get better.

So I waited a month while my auburn colored, wavy hair grew back, it only grew to about my cheek bones, but at least I wouldn't have to wear a wig in front of people.

And for the first time in about two years I stepped out of bed. Shakily, but I still managed to make it to the wheelchair. I took everything in as I passed the hospital hall way and when we reached the parking lot and I saw my little brother in the sun I smiled from ear to ear. He ran over to me and sat on my lap while my parents pushed the wheelchair towards the car.

"Does this mean the angels are going to let you stay Ali?" he asked me in his cute little voice.

I nodded, "I hope so," I said encouragingly and we got into the car, so I could start my life again…