I don't own CR

My world seems to have two halves that exist completely outside of each other. They have this delicate balance that's one part Ella Pador and another part Ella-belle. They both have the same make-up and morals, but they have separate lives and hide a different secret. It's like those worlds could never peacefully co-exist. But as Jason talks about doing a small acoustic show for the St. Andrew's treatment center, I feel their collision is emanate.

"I think it would be really cool to raise awareness for this group! Apparently, as they get older, their immune systems weaken and they get really sick all the time. It's usually fetal from what I've heard."

"And it's not AIDS?"

My hackles raise, but I bite my tongue. No Shane, it just has the same letters. Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome is not the same as Auto Immune System Deficiency. I want to yell, but then I feel like I'd have to explain why I suddenly became the expert on something that wasn't even well publicized.

Thankfully, Jason rolls his eyes, and telling Shane "No, it's not AIDS."

Nate looks over the presentation that Caitlyn helped Jason make with scrutinizing eyes, deciding if this was something that they should support. If they're putting their name behind AISD, he wants to be sure that this isn't something that will be negative towards business.

Mitchie has that gleam in her eyes that says it all, and she voices that an acoustic show would be a great show of charity and anyone else with estrogen agrees.

"Ella, what do you think?"

Of course I would be performing too, it just couldn't be enough that were going. On the one side, I would love for AISD to be put to the for-front. But at the same time, I'd be risking the separation of my two lives.

The wheels in my head turn, crank, and I chew the inside of my lip before I say anything.

"It sounds like a great idea."

What have I done?

By the time the meeting is over, I've broken out in hives. I can feel them sweating and sweltering under my cardigan, they sting so much that I almost burst into tears of joy when I can race to the bathroom and take my medicine. I rush in and lock the door, my hands trembling as I dig through my purse for the pink medicine carrier. I open the lid with shaking hands and take out the fast working amitriptyline. It leaves a tingling sensation as it slides down my throat, but my clam comes back in waves. As the trembling stops I shrug out of my cardigan, letting out a painful hiss as the fabric rubs over my hives.

I glance down at my arms and feel myself start to break down. I turn on the cold water and run some paper towels under it, sticking them to my forearms and just sliding down the wall afterward.

I hear the lock jingle and quickly sit up, shutting off the water.

"Ella?" Caitlyn's voice comes from behind the door. "Ella, are you in there?"

I don't say anything put continue to stare at the lock as it jiggles and twist.

The dreaded moment comes with a cheerful ping.

Caitlyn rushes into the bathroom and looks around first, looking for anything that might be out of place. Then she stops and looks at me. Her eyes widen as she zeros in on my arms.

"Oh, Ella! What happened?" She closes the distance between us and snatches up my wrist in her hands. I can't help the cry of pain that comes with her nails digging into my flesh.

"Ju-just shut the door." I plead, yanking my arm back and cradling it close to my chest.

"Shit Ella, I'm sorry. You know it didn't mean to hurt you, right?" Her honey eyes have cracks of concern in them mixed with anxiety.

"I know Cait, I just hurts really bad." I nearly sob, waiting for the medicine to kick in and the numbing to start.

"Ella, what happened? What is going on?" Caitlyn takes my arm again, but it more ginger in her caring. "They're hives. This is how my syndrome manifests its self."

She looks up from my arm, confusion written across her face.

"Caitlyn, I have AISD."

"How long?" Caitlyn is sitting across from me on the bathroom floor, her features guarded.

"I found out the summer of the camp wars." Her eyes flash from my arms to my cardigan and she goes back to relive that summer, I know because I see that look all time.

"You didn't wear short sleeves that summer, how did I not notice?" She pauses and thinks, and I already know what she's going to say.

"You haven't worn short sleeves period. You've always had something covering your arms!" It's like a revelation to her, it suddenly snaps in to place and she has all the missing pieces.

"When you were gone that week, spending time with your mom, you were sick... weren't you?" She closes her eyes like she's dreading the answer.

"Yes."

"And Christmas, last year when you left early?"

"Yes."

"And when you couldn't go to Florida with us?"

"I was getting lab work done."

"When you missed camp last summer?" Her eyes snap open and tears leak out.

My voice wavers and I feel my own tears. "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Her voice has a slight edge to it and I wince.

"Because you'd be angry that I didn't tell all of you sooner. Even if I had told you the day I found out, would you've believed me?"

She thinks, and shakes her head no.

"Is that why you didn't say anything during the meeting? Because you didn't want us to find out?"

I nod my head and sigh.

"I'm part of the clinic group at St. Andrew's. I'm now the person who's been there the longest, Kasey died last week." My heart numbs at mentioning Kasey, but I try not to cry any more than I already have.

"Shit." Caitlyn envelopes me in a hug and holds me tight.

I feel the walls start breaking down and I sob into her shoulder. I cry for everyone I've lost.

For little Michael, who never even lost his first tooth. For Jane, who was terrified that her baby inherited more than just her looks. For Mark, who didn't finish his doctorate. Andrea never knew love, she was thirteen. Jake had never been fishing. April never found her birth mother. Jude never watched Across the Universe. And Luke never proposed to Jenna. So many lives just cut in the middle of their stories. I cried for all of them.

As the tears stop, Caitlyn asks the one question I always ask myself.

"How much longer?"

"I wish could tell you."