It has been two months since he died. It felt like just yesterday I had heard the news... I didn't believe it. I couldn't. Reality has set in since. Sometimes I still wake up and think he's there, but I soon realize the ugly truth: Tyler was killed on September 11, 2001. He was taken from me, and it wasn't fair. I always somehow manage to restrain the hurt by telling myself that time will ease my pain. Everyday it's getting harder to tell myself that.

Ally was writing in her diary again. It was something Tyler had done, and it had rubbed off on her. It helped her feel better, too. It let her get out the emotions she couldn't bear to express to anyone else. Of course, her father had tried to get her to speak to a therapist, but it just wasn't that easy.

While going over the events of the past few months in her head, Ally was suddenly yanked from her thoughts by an overpowering wave of nausea. She rushed to the restroom of the café she had been sitting in, and vomited in one of the stalls. The ugly green tiling of the bathroom floor didn't do much to ease the intense pain she felt in her stomach. Once she was done, she quickly gathered up her things and left the café.

This wasn't the first time Ally had thrown up like this. She had vomited a few other times, like the other morning at her dad's house. Ally simply associated it with missing Tyler so much. It made sense to her. People get lovesick all the time. She just had a particularly bad case.

Once she arrived back home, Ally popped an anti-nausea pill and passed out on her bed. During her nap, she had a dream. She was with Tyler in his apartment. They were sitting around his kitchen table, laughing and smiling. Ally had had dreams like this before; her and Tyler being so happy together, so in love. This time was different. What she and Tyler were laughing and smiling at was what woke her with a start: a baby. When she had awaken, Ally rushed to the bathroom. Turns out it wasn't the strangeness of the dream that had woken her up. It was the nausea. After cleaning herself up once again, she decided the problem wasn't going to get any better. It was only going to get worse, and she could feel it.

"Dad, I think I might be sick." Ally said to her father, who was her closest friend ever since Tyler died. They had become closer than ever since that fateful day.

Her father replied with a sigh and a reassuring grin, " Well, looks like we need to get you in to see the doc. I'll try to get you the first appointment I can." He suddenly turned serious. "So what's the matter?"

"I've just felt really off lately. I'm pretty sure it's just a stomach bug, but I want to be completely sure." Ally said, hoping she could soon get some antibiotics and feel better in no time.

"Alright. I'll see if I can get you in to see Dr. Sanders, as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it." She said as she headed back to her room. After she got some medicine and some rest, Ally was sure she'd be okay and get right back to normal.