You don't know me and I don't know you. I think we should just cut to the chase here. My name is Bella Anne Foreman. I am 18 years old and my mother passed away when I was 11 years old. I have two younger sisters who are 15 and 12 their names are Kenzie and Sophie. Before you throw a pity party for me. This is not why I'm telling you this. I am telling you this because I want to find out who my mom was as a doctor and a person before she had kids and before the disease took over her. I know you're probably going to ask "Why don't you just ask your dad?" but see, the thing is I don't want to hear some sappy love story about how she was some brilliant doctor. I want to know how her friends and colleagues thought of her. I want to see the real her. The one not described by a Dr. Eric Foreman. I want the raw and honest one. So, after I pick my sisters up from school. First, I call my dad. "Come on pick up" I think to myself as the cell rings. It rings for a few moments until I hear my dad say "Hey" he says. "Hey, it's Bella" I say back. "How was your day?" He asks. "Good Kenz and Soph are doing their homework and I'm doing mine too" I say to him. "That's good" he says. "What time are you coming home?" I ask to break the awkwardness I secretly feel between us. "Around 6:30" he says. "Okay, are you going to get dinner?" I ask him. "I was thinking we could just have a pizza is that fine with you?" He asked me. "Sure" I say. "I gotta go" he says. "Love you so much" he adds on. "Love you too" I say as I hang up the phone. "Pizza's for dinner" I say to my sisters who are doing their homework. "Yes!" Sophie exclaims. "Need any help with your homework?" I say. I have stepped in to the role of Sister-Mom sometimes since my mom has passed. It's something I don't mind. I just do the little things like driving them home when dad can't make it and helping them with homework. He knows I'm trying to make the best of my senior year of high school. So, he cuts down on hours on work depending on the day. I wish my mom was here to my senior year. I have to admit no matter how much I want to forget about the painful memories I have. I'm sad she'll never pick out prom dresses with me or even see me in my cap and gown and watch me go off to college and clap for me. I sigh as I think these thoughts "Bell, You okay?" I hear Kenzie ask. "Yeah I'm fine I'm going downstairs" I say as I go downstairs and start with the small stuff like old photo albums