A/N: I back! I hope everyone had a great weekend… I had an absolutely amazing one! Aside from the fact that I jinxed myself (I got paraniod to the point where I thought someone did break in and I hid in the attic with my brother for over half an hour… Turns out the garage door needs to be slammed to shut properly, otherwise it will continue opening and shutting and making the alarm thingy beep. And the thing that I thought was the drawer was the ice machine. Huh. Who knew?), aside from that, my weekend was wonderful! I saw Elton John on Saturday with the guy I like (my first date!) and I had a blast. Elton John was… wow. Words can't describe how awesome he was. Billy Joel was great, too! And the guy I like… Extremely nice and polite. Gotta love him! Anyways… Sorry for going on! Here's the story!

Chapter Eight: A Cure?

Sara POV:

I felt so relieved. Finally someone else knew about my disease, and I had someone to talk to. I watched my mom after I told her, worried that she hadn't said anything. She was still and silent, despair and anger battling in her ivory eyes.

"Mom?" I asked, my voice quiet and hoarse. She blinked, coming back alive.

"Yes?" She smiled, but it was a sad, quiet smile.

"Don't worry. I just want to live my life to the fullest. I don't need pity." I told her. With that, I picked up my bags and left, wanting the peace and quiet of my room.

~*~

(A Few Months Later)

School had started two months ago and practice for the play was in full swing. Mrs. Adams was going crazy, claiming that the play would start soon. I agreed with her up to a point: Yes, it was close, but seven months still gave us plenty of time to practice. Meanwhile, my TB was getting harder and harder to hide. It was worsening, and I was afraid I didn't have long to live. Still, I told no one else, and was secretly glad when Mrs. Adams proclaimed that I acted out the part of a TB victim incredibly well. If only she knew.

I came home after a normal day in school (the usual coughing up of blood and shortness of breath) sometime in mid-October, ready to sleep. My mom, however, had other plans.

"Sara! Sara!" She shouted, happiness aglow on her face.

"What?" I asked, irritable and tired beyond belief.

"They're making headway!"

"What do you mean?"

"They might have something that could be a cure!" She shouted, running over and hugging me. I was stunned, emotions fighting for dominance: relief, hope, worry, fear, happiness. Relief for the fact that this could finally be over with. Hope for a cure. Worry that the cure wouldn't work. Fear that this was a false alarm. Happiness that it was finally happening. A cure.

Please let it be released before I die. I prayed, silently. Little did I know that my prayers were useless. A few short months would find me dying in Chris's arms, at the very end of a spectacular play. The cure, even it was released a few days before my death, would do me no good.

A/N: Did you like it? Yes, that was kind of a spoiler, but you never know! Maybe she will be saved… Please review!