"Okay Genevieve, we have all the paperwork done. If you will walk this way please and we will get you situated in your room."

Doctor Madison led me through the corridor toward a room near the end of the hallway, still holding my file in his hand. I stepped into the small sixteen by sixteen room that had blank, white walls. There was a twin bed in the corner that had white sheets, a nightstand with white flowers that were beginning to brown in a plastic vase, and a window that had white curtains.

"White. It's all white," I complained in a monotone voice.

"Yes, well the point of the situation is that we calm your mind and we try to achieve that by removing anything shocking from your environment." Dr. Madison tried to reassure me but I was not one to care. I shrugged in response.

"You can relax for an hour and Nurse Nora will come by to take you to your first therapy session," he continued.

"I don't need a babysitter. I can find your office easily." I crossed my arms and looked at him coldly.

"I understand, Genevieve, but it's a rule in this facility that we monitor you for the first week or until we get a feel of your mood swings and habits." I must admit, the doctor had a really good patience level, so I told him.

"You have a good patience level, Doc. Usually, I would be in some sort of trouble for giving people a hard time by now."

"You may act like a child, Genevieve, but I know that there is a responsible nineteen year old under that tough exterior of yours." He smiled and gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Well, go get some rest. Nora will be here in an hour." And just like that, he walked back down the hallway. It's so awkward talking to that guy.

I turned back towards the white room that I was supposed to call mine. I gingerly sat on the bed. The nightstand didn't have any drawers, it was just painted to give the illusion of having drawers. The few acceptable clothing items that I had were neatly folded in a rectangle hole in the wall that used mesh as a form of shelves. I had never seen anything like it. The whole place was unlike any other rehabilitation place I've ever known.

I touched the flowers that were on the nightstand, almost believing they were fake so I was surprised when my fingers came in contact with a soft, cool petal. So the flowers are real, I thought. But the drawers aren't? It was a strange place.

I stood and walked across the small area to the window and pulled aside the not-quite-sheer curtain. I was on the fifth floor and I could see the horizon over the trees. I checked for a latch on the window and found out that these people were thorough in de-hazardizing the facility. So jumping out the window is a no.

I looked out the window where the sun was now high in the sky and I stared at it. I was always told to never stare directly at the sun or else I'll go blind but I didn't care about my eyesight anymore. I didn't care about anything.

"So how was your hour? Did you make yourself comfortable in your new room?" Dr. Madison asked with optimism, as always.

I looked blankly at him.

He looked expectantly at me.

We had a staring contest for about five minutes.

I won.

"Well, how are you feeling right now? Apprehensive because you're new here?" I kept looking at him.

"Excited for this experience?" I held my stare right at his face.

"Are you happy to be taking control of your sickness?" he continued. I kept my gaze cold and unflinching on him.

"Don't you want to be happy again?" I didn't even blink.

Dr. Madison sighed lightly and closed my file in his hands.

"Genevieve, in order for this to work, you have to be willing to participate. If you just sit there without even a show of emotion then I won't know how to help you." He paused, giving me a chance to say something. I didn't take it. He heaved another sigh and sat up straight. "Well this is the first session so there are many more opportunities to talk. You know that the noon session is a group therapy with Dr. Kim. I hope you take advantage of that hour to meet others who suffer from other mental conditions similar to depression and understand that we are trying to help you. There is more than one option you can take."

After the disaster therapy session with Dr. Madison, Nora led me to a room on the fourth floor where I was to attend my morning activity. Dr. Madison told me that patients could pick their choice of activity for morning, afternoon, and evening. None must be the same for the day and all must be attended unless given permission to do otherwise. My chosen morning activity was art class.

Instructor David said that art was a wonderful thing because we could express ourselves anyway we want but that day we were to use paint as a medium. David encouraged us to paint our feelings and to add depth to what was in our minds while he was passing out sheets of white paper. It was all very motivational so I followed his instruction. I painted my white sheet black. All black. Yay me.

It was lunchtime so Nora and I went down to the first floor to get food from the cafeteria. Nora gave me a card so that I didn't have to give money at the register since it was included in my plan. Technically, I already paid. At least my parents did.

I followed Nora to a table near the entrance and plopped down into my seat. We didn't speak as we ate but it was a comfortable silence. I may have liked Nora, if I cared enough.

I had to pause on my way to the trash bin to toss the contents of my tray into the garbage when a young girl in a wheelchair sped herself into the meal line right in front of me and her nurse ran after her with a smile on his face.

"Yes!" She pumped her fists in the air. "First again. That's five times now, Travis. You have to let me eat what I want today," she exclaimed with glee.

Travis shook his head with a smug smile on his face. "No, kid, you know the rules."

The girl pouted and and gave him what I assumed was "the face" but he didn't budge.

"Aw, Trav, you promised!"

"No I didn't, Dana. I would get fired if I did." Travis said patiently.

Dana didn't take it easily. "Okay. Fine. But we still get to go outside today, right?"

"Of course. It's beautiful today."

"Yay! C'mon. Hurry and eat so that we can see the flowers we planted last week!" And the smile was back on her face.

"What are you looking at, Genevieve?" Nora pulled me out of my reverie.

"What? Oh, nothing." I shook my head and looked away from the girl. "You done yet?"

"I've been done for a while. You okay? You were dazed for a moment. Is it a headache? That's a side effect from the pills you started today."

"No, I'm fine. It really was nothing."

"If it happens again, I might have to mention it to Dr. Madison, Genevieve," Nora warned as we made our way to the elevators.

"Nora, can you call me Gen? Genevieve is so annoying to hear."

"No problem," she replied with a smile.

Hmm. Maybe I might like her after all.

Group therapy is supposedly an fun environment where patients are seated together and they share their feelings, ideas, and experiences with their peers. At least that's what it said on the brochure. Someone is a liar liar pants on fire. Group therapy is just a bunch of adolescents that don't care about other people's feelings or want to share their own. Except for that one kid that is the opposite from everyone else and insists on talking all about himself and his weaknesses and his strengths and what makes him angry and what makes him happy and blah blah blah. There is always that one kid. In my group, that kid's name is Caden. He's bipolar.

"All right, Caden, The hour is almost up so lets give another person a chance to share something," Dr. Kim interrupted him with a smile. I don't think it bothered Caden because he just smiled widely back. Perhaps he's just used to it. Dr. Kim looked at the notepad that sat on her lap.

"Genevieve, you're new to this group and it's your first day. Why don't you introduce yourself, share why you're here, and how the beginning of your day went."

I stared at the short, Asian woman. She had short black hair that curled into her neck and glasses that took over her face but she still looked attractive.

"Genevieve?" she repeated.

I cleared my throat. "Well my name is Genevieve but I prefer Gen."

"Hi Genevieve," my peers replied.

"Right. Well, I'm nineteen years old, I have depression, and I was taken here by my parents because they felt that I was too suicidal," I finished.

Dr. Kim looked at me and tapped her pen on her notepad.

"What do you think about that, Genevieve?"

"What?"

"I'm asking about being too suicidal. Do you agree with your parents?"

I was stumped. I have tried to kill myself once but the other five times were all accidents and close calls which were the results of being an adrenaline junkie. I opened my mouth to reply and was cut off by the timer signaling the end of the hour. Saved by the bell. I rushed out and met Nora in the hallway. We headed to the gym on the first floor for my afternoon activity.

One day, after four weeks of the same schedule, with the absence of Nora shadowing me, I bumped into the girl in the wheelchair whose name I couldn't remember. I was walking through the garden with a book that Nora approved for me finding a good spot to just sit and read. I past the next corner to get to the courtyard that I saw from up in my window and saw the girl in her wheelchair sitting in front of a patch of orange tulips.

"Oh. Sorry." I started moving back out but she stopped me.

"No, no. It's okay." She spotted my book. "You're just reading anyway, right? That isn't any noise at all." She flashed her amazing smile and pointed to the stone bench in the shade.

"I can leave if you want," I offered, still uncertain.

"Oh please, It's fine! Unless you don't want me to be here?" She smirked so I knew she was just teasing.

"No, I have no problem with that."

"Then c'mon. Sit next to me."

I walked to the bench next to her and sat down. I opened my book but I didn't look at the words. I only picked reading as my afternoon activity because it was one of the few things that allowed me to go outside. Taking a stroll was considered an activity but I had already did that this morning. So reading it was. Even if the book was incredibly boring.

"I'm Dana but you can call me Day."

"Genevieve and you can call me Gen."

"Nice to meet you. I don't think I've seen you around before. Have you been here long?"

I guess she doesn't remember when she almost ran into me my first day here. "I came here about four weeks ago."

"Ohhhh," she replied, nodding her head. "So what are you here for?" This girl had no shame.

I debated on lying to her about my depression but thought better of it because she seemed like a nice kid. Maybe she didn't even care and she would forget about it later.

"I suffer from depression and my parents thought that it was worse than it actually is so they sent me here to stay for a while," I recited. I've been repeating myself for quite a while.

"Oh." She repeated in a serious tone. "So you don't think you belong here?"

This question again. "Well, not really. I mean, I have tried to kill myself but the other times were really just accidents. I'm not really the suicidal person that everyone thinks I am."

"Do you want to die?" She gave me a sad, curious look. I appreciated the lack of disappointment in her expression.

"Well, I did but... not anymore. I don't know. It's complicated."

Dana just looked at me with a small, sad smile.

Feeling uncomfortable, I turned the question onto her. "So what are you here for?" I closed my book and set it on my lap.

"My body is weak," she replied with a shrug. "I have to stay in a monitored environment, so here I am."

"How long have you been here?"

She smiled her radiant smile and held up all ten of her fingers. "Ten years," she proclaimed proudly.

Ten years? How old is this kid? "How old are you?"

"My birthday is in a month and I'll be fifteen. What about you? You look much older than me but still pretty young."

"I'm nineteen. My birthday was earlier this year."

"Oh, that's cool. I wish I could be nineteen..."

What an odd thing to say, I thought.

Reading became my permanent afternoon activity and I met up with Dana in the courtyard every Monday. We would talk about nothing and everything at the same time. She told me about her dad who always had to work to pay off her medical bills but he would visit her every day. She said that he was kind, strong, and handsome. She never mentioned her mom so I assumed it was a sore subject for her. Dana was constantly smiling and laughing with her heart that it was impossible to think of her body as weak. She was always moving around and going places. She took me to the east wing of the hospital where the other children were roomed and I met some of her friends. She told me all of them were sick with life threatening illnesses but it didn't look like they were suffering much. When I asked Dana about it later she just shrugged and told me that they're just ready for it.

"People think that death is a bad, scary thing," she said. "But really, it all depends on how you come about it and handle it. Everyone here has come to peace with the outcome and are living life as full as they possibly can," she told me. She pointed to a young boy who had red beanie and a basketball in his hand. "That's Jeremy. He's fourteen years old and has a bad heart. Doctors told him that in order to prolong his life, he had to give up playing basketball."

"But... he's holding a basketball right now."

"That's because when Dr. Cavanagh said that he would only live to be about seventeen, Jeremy decided that he wanted to live the rest of his short life doing what he wanted to do instead of laying in bed with a view of the basketball court that taunted him and his illness." She grabbed a hold of my hand and tugged me farther along the hall. "Come, I want to show you my room!"

Dana found every opportunity to meet up with me and talk to me during my daily activities. She would eat lunch with me in the cafeteria with her nurse, Travis, and she would walk with me to the east wing to play with the other kids. Travis was always around during meal times and evenings but during our outings, he left us alone.

I told Dr. Madison about Dana and the adventures we would take around hospital property. He would sit quietly and listen to me go on and on about my day with Dana with a knowing grin on his face.

"What are you smiling about, Doc?" I asked him during one session.

"Oh nothing, really. I'm just pleased that you seem to be making quite some progress."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, on your first day, when we had the first therapy session, you were silent and closed off. Now, almost four months later, you have opened up and started interacting with the other patients. Dr. Kim mentioned you're improvement in group therapy. You have really cooperated much more than other patients who have been here far longer than you have." He paused and tapped his pen on his chin. "I guess you could say that I'm smiling because I am very proud to see your recovery."

Dana surprised me one morning by knocking on my bedroom door with a balloon and flowers in her hand.

"Surprise! Congrats on your fifth month here!" She thrusted the balloon and flowers into my hands. Dana has given me a balloon and flowers for the past three months since we met to celebrate the fact that I am almost ready to be discharged from the hospital but that is not what has silenced me with astonishment.

"Day, where's your wheelchair?" I stare at her five foot one height in bewilderment.

"Doc finally gave me the okay to start using my legs again. I don't tire as easily and I like the feel of my leg muscles woking."

"I'm so happy for you!" I rush forward and hug her with all my might.

She giggles with happiness. "I really got you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you sure did. Consider me properly shocked. Now lets go get some breakfast, I have a morning therapy session after that."

"All righty but let's take the stairs. I've never walked on the stairs before!"

Ever since Dana regained the use of her legs, we have been taking more walks outdoors. We would constantly play in the fountains and climb trees, with Travis' supervision of course, and then we would run across the wide field and feel the wind rushing against our faces.

"I think I'm falling in love with running like that," Dana told me in between gasps of breath when we flopped down in the grass. "I like the feeling because it seems as if we're flying!"

I laugh at her ever-present enthusiasm. "Yeah, I love it too."

"I'll miss this. Running with you."

I look at her but she keeps her face tilted out towards the sky, watching the sun go down. "What do you mean? You have Travis around. Make him run."

"Oh please, Travis may look super athletic but he hates running. He's done enough of that when I made him chase me in my wheelchair."

"It's okay," I assured her. "I'll come back everyday just to hang out with you. We can do what we've been doing ever since we met. It's the Day and Gen show, forever and always." I grabbed her hand in mine. "You're like the sister I never had and what kind of sister would I be if I just left you here to go find another partner in crime, hmm?"

"Yeah, I guess that's a way to look at it." She tried to smile but it didn't quite make it to her eyes. "Gen, can you promise me something?"

"What?"

"Don't give up living, okay? You have the opportunity to do such great things in your life that it would be such a waste to quit existing."

"Hey, where is this coming from?" I tugged her hand that was still entwined with mine.

"Nowhere, I just want you to know that there are people who love you and you shouldn't take the easy way out when things get hard. Let's go. It's almost dark and Travis is probably freaking out right now because he can't see me."

Nearing the end of my six months in the hospital, Dana told me that she had to go and visit her mom in Alaska. It was the first time she mentioned her mother. She and her father were heading north for her mother's birthday and they were going this year because Dr. Cavanagh gave her clearance to travel.

I spent the first two weeks of my last month alone and feeling a bit lost. I realized that I didn't really have much to do without Dana around. I went to the east wing regularly to visit the children and play and draw with them. I took walks outside and tried to read the awful book that I started when I met Dana. I threw pennies that Nora gave me into the fountain and made plenty of wishes. Dr. Madison also gave me a bag of assorted flower seeds to plant around the garden. Even with a lot on my plate, I still felt a bit empty without Dana and her cheerful smile.

Eventually, someone told me why Dana was away for so long and I almost fainted from the suppressing grief that threatened to pull me down.

"Dana died a few days ago. Her father is bringing her back here so that Dr. Cavanagh can have a look at her body." Travis put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Genevieve. I know you were fond of her. I know this can't be easy for you."

"But she was doing fine. She was even walking and she..." A sob tore it's way through my throat preventing me from finishing my thoughts.

"I know, I know. She was walking because she knew that it was almost her time. She told Dr. Cavanagh that she wanted to use her own legs properly for once."

"She knew that she was dying?" My voice rose with hysteria. "She stopped using her wheelchair because she knew that she was dying and she didn't tell me? She left for Alaska knowing that she was dying and she. Didn't. Tell. Me?!"

"Calm down, Genevieve. It's not good to deal with grief this way. Please, let me take you to your room." He held onto my arm and tried to lead me to the elevators but my feet wouldn't budge. Travis sighed lightly and scooped me into his arms and made his way to the fifth floor.

I stayed in bed for a whole week, skipping my therapy sessions and activities. I skipped all my meals the day I learned of Dana's death but Nora came into my room everyday after with my meals and wouldn't leave until I finished everything she brought. Dr. Madison and Dr. Kim came into my room with intents on bringing me back out into the real world but I didn't see them or hear them. Everything out there reminded me of Dana: the garden, the courtyard, the cafeteria, the east wing, the field, the fountain, even the blue sky and its blinding sun. I chose to stay in the room I hated so much to block out the lovely world that Dana helped me build around my heart. I didn't even ask her what horrible illness took her away.

The day after Dana's funeral, I got an unexpected visit from her father.

"Are you Genevieve?" He asked me. His eyes were bloodshot and his black shirt and slacks were wrinkled but he still looked like everything Dana said he would be. His bloodshot eyes had crows feet that only came when a person smiled plenty, his arms showed muscle that only a hardworking man would have had, and his facial features hinted good looks in his youth. He looked like the kind of father that every daughter would brag about, kind, strong, and handsome.

"Yes, I am. Can I help you?" I sat up in my bed and pulled my messy, dirty hair into a hair band.

"I'm Dana's father, Henry."

"Yeah, I know. Dana showed me a picture of you and told me all about you. She was very proud of you."

Henry smiled sadly. "She told me a lot about you, too. She certainly seemed proud enough to call you her sister."

"Yeah, I was happy to call her my sister too. I can't believe she's gone." I stared at my fingers that were knotted in my lap. "What am I supposed to do without her?"

"Just keep living."

I looked up at him sharply. "You really are Dana's father. She said the same thing to me..."

"Yeah. It was something like a family motto."

After some awkward silence I asked about their trip to Alaska.

"Ah, yes, well it was all right. Nothing special."

"How was Dana's mother? Did you get her a present?"

Henry looked at me with sad eyes. "What did Dana say when she told you we were going to Alaska?"

"She said that since the doctor gave her the okay, she was going with you to celebrate her mother's birthday."

"Henry smiled sadly again and shook his head slowly. "No, that wasn't it. We did go to visit her mother but it wasn't her birthday. It was her death anniversary."

I couldn't speak so I just gaped at him.

Squirming with discomfort and tears in his eyes he took a folded envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to me. It had my name written in the middle.

"Dana told me to give this to you before she died. She said that she hoped that it would help you understand her side of everything that happened."

I looked at Henry and stood up to give him a tight hug. "I know I might smell a bit but I really wanted to hug you. I'm sorry for your loss and I hope you can have a good life."

Henry patted my back the way my own father should have and kissed my cheek. "Thank you for being there for Dana. She didn't have anyone to really connect with until you came along. I could tell that she was more content and happy even with the gastric cancer controlling her life."

So that's what she was sick with. I never even knew.

"I think she influenced my life more than I influenced hers. She was only fifteen years old but she taught me things that I hadn't learned in my nineteen years of life."

Henry patted my back again and left me to read the note she wrote for me on her deathbed.

My dear sister Gen,

I'm so sorry that I wasn't strong enough to tell you the truth on purpose. I didn't even tell you what I was sick with because I was afraid that you would piece together some things and realize that I wasn't getting better at all. I know that you are reading this after having a brief conversation with my father. He is an amazing father and if you ever have the chance to see him again, please tell him I love him. If there is one thing I regret in my life, it is not telling him those three words more. Please forgive me, Gen, for being a coward and promise me to never be a coward yourself.

As you have probably learned from my dad, my mom died when I was about ten. She was this amazingly loving and kind mother that anyone could have. She was always smiling and always giving so I aspired to be like her. When it became obvious that I wouldn't be getting better, she fell into a deep depression and ended up killing herself. She couldn't handle the pain and she took the easy way out, leaving me and Papa all on our own.

I'm begging you, with all my heart Gen, that you don't give up and lose hope like my mother did. There is always a better way to deal with things that happen in life. You have to keep living because there are other people who don't have a choice. Think of Jeremy. Do you think he wanted to be born with a hole in his heart? Does it seem like he wants to die? No, it doesn't. Jeremy is trying to do as much as he can in the little time he was given. But you, Gen, have so much more time than anyone in the east wing. You certainly lived longer than me.

Don't waste time being sad. Don't believe that death is the answer because it most definitely is not. Spend your last week preparing yourself for the trials in life because we all know that there will be trials that test you. The only way to beat death is to live life. If you can't live for yourself then live for the ones that can't and won't like me and Jeremy and all the other kids in the east wing. You have the power to do what you want so don't be a coward, Gen. Be life.

I'm looking from above,

Dana