CHAPTER 18

((the next chapter…if you read this italics writing type GO BEARS!! in your review…the super bowl is today!!! Chicago bears are gonna win it all…XOXO, CHRISTINE))

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If there's anything you need
All you have to do is say
You knew you satisfy everything in me
We shouldn't waste a single day

So don't stop me falling
It's destiny calling
A power I just can't deny
It's never changing
Can't you hear me, I'm saying
I want you for the rest of my life

Together forever and never to part
Together forever we two
And don't you know
I would move heaven and earth
To be together forever with you

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Miley slowly dragged herself along Pacific Coast Highway, a spectacle in he bath robe and frog slippers. It was a warm, but breezy day, and the beach looked absolutely gorgeous. She couldn't pull herself to look at it. The salty air made her increasingly thirsty, her parched throat dry, unable to speak.

After an hour of mindless wandering, she reached Jake's monstrous house, where she knew him to live, most of the time alone. His father had been moved to a mental hospital an hour away, due to all he had been through. The long days of cannibalism mal-nourishment and dehydration had addled him in the slightest ways. He was hoping to be released within the next few weeks, but until he was, Mrs. Ryan had chosen to remain loyal to him. Jake was home spending his days alone, confused.

Miley knocked on his glass back door. He was sitting watching himself on T.V. confusedly. He looked up, surveying her appearance, confusedly. He slid open the door. "M-Miley, right?" he asked confusedly.

It broke her heart to hear him stuttering through her name, as if their was nothing, no fire, no passion, no undying love. "Yes," she whispered, trying to hold back her waterworks. They had become completely out of control lately.

"Um, what are you doing here?" he wondered aloud, confusedly. "I thought you were mad at me. I thought you hated me."

"Oh, Jake, I could never hate you," Miley whispered, a single tear dropping from her eye. "I came to apologize. I'm sorry I was so selfish, and left you all alone. I'm sorry I abandoned you because of my own slobberness and teenage waries. I'm sorry I put you in a position. Right now all you can handle is a friend, I get that now." Her eyes were waterfalls now, salty tears, smelt, seen, and tasted. "I was trying to be something more, and I shouldn't be. I'm so sorry."

Jake didn't know what to say. He stood there, not confusedly, but awkwardly. Miley had poured out her heart and soul not to mention water in the last week and a half. He wasn't sure how to react. All he knew was that he had a massive headache…and it was taking him over…

Miley found herself once again sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, thankfully close to home. She had cried for five straight hours, and Mrs. Ryan couldn't come down. Her husband's sanity was on the line. She seemed to care more for her husband himself, than a symbol of him. Miley was alone. Robbie Ray was in Oregon on a business trip, and Jackson was on a road trip with friends. She couldn't reach Lily or Oliver on their cell phones. A wave of famishment struck her. She hadn't eaten since the candy bar in her bedroom with Oliver and Lily almost seven hours ago. She remembered this hospital vaguely from when her mother died, and she recalled the cafeteria being in the basement. She headed to the nearest elevator. Inside it was a little girl, who looked to be about nine years old.

"What are you in for?" the little girl asked Miley. "Are you sick too?" It was just now that Miley realized the little girl had no hair. She had been in such a daze, she hadn't realized the baldness and the I.V. the girl was carting around with her.

"No, my friend is," Miley answered sadly, noticing the girl's pale demeanor.

"Oh," the girl replied. "I have cancer in my blood, I think they call it lookemia." (meaning leukemia). Miley smiled sadly. The girl, sensing Miley's sympathy quickly added, "but I'll get better. I gotta. According to my mom it's not my time. I'm supposed to live a long happy life. I'm supposed to get married and have babies."

"I'm sure you will," Miley replied, attempting encouragement. "Be a fighter, like my friend."

"I'm a warrior!" she screamed in glee. "I beat everyone! I take over the world!" Miley laughed. The elevator dinged, opening the golden gates, to the basement.

"Well it was nice to meet you…err…" Miley had never gotten the girl's name.
"Carolina," the little girl squeaked.

Miley paused. Carolina had been her mother's name. "Well, my name's Miley."

"Bye, Miley!" she called. Miley wondered what she was doing alone in the elevator.

Miley's mother had suffered from leukemia as a nine-year-old girl, but she had survived. She had gone many more years, finishing school, going through college, marriage, and children, before she had a relapse. A relapse 25 years later was extremely rare, but the relapse ended her life. She died two months after the sorrowful diagnosis. She couldn't help seeing her mother in Carolina. She made a mental note to herself to attempt to find her, and see her one more time, before she left. Something about that little girl troubled Miley greatly.

After a sandwich and pudding, Miley returned to the waiting room. Because she was not Jake's parent or legal guardian, or even an immediate family member, she was not told anything. His mother hadn't planned on coming, so she was faxing over an information releasal form, but she obviously hadn't taken much haste in doing it.

Miley sat there, knowing nothing, when the hospital lawyer approached her. "Are you Miss Miley Stewart?" she asked tartly, holding a folder of papers.

"Yes," Miley eagerly answered. "Are those the papers Mrs. Ryan faxed over."

"I cannot release any information until you show me some identification." The lawyer was serious. Miley whipped out her school I.D. "Follow me." The lady beckoned her into an office. "Yes, indeed, these are the papers from Mrs. Ryan releasing Jake's information. I need you to read these through and sign them." Miley scanned each paper excitedly, taking in nothing, enthusiastically scribbling her signature on each.

"Okay, now what's going on?" she frenetically asked. "Is he okay? What happened? Is he going to live?"

"I am unaware of anything except that he is having tests run on him this very second. They are waiting for the data. He is unconscious, on life support."

"LIFE SUPPORT?!

((sort of a cliffhanger…remember…GO BEARS!!! review time please…I am open to all ideas…XOXO, CHRISTINE))