Hey you guys, I'm really going to try and update more frequently now, hopefully back to my once a week schedule. I love you all, thanks for being supportive and not giving up on me :)
THIS STORY HAS BEEN NOMINATED FOR A TOPAZ AWARD FOR MINOR PAIRING! The voting hasn't been opened yet, but I would love for you all to vote for me if you like this story. I would be so appreciative of that, I love you guys! Even being nominated is a huge honor and special thanks to Ailodierap for nominating me :)
The forum is here (take out the "dots" and replace them with "." and remove all of the spaces por favor): forum/The-Topaz-Awards-2013/108350/
AND THIS IS IN ROBBIE'S POINT OF VIEW ONCE AGAIN!
IAmImperfect: Thanks so much!
DoubleBubble294: Luckily, I updated on time for once!
Degrassi Nonsense: I agree, a lot of Reck stories are like, "Beck love meh pls" And then Beck is all, "no I 3 jade" And Robbie's like, "pls" and Beck is like, "k who needs morals?"...Wow, that was stupid. Anyway, thank you :)
Evangelion-Wings: Thanks, I totally agree with you and I'm working on it!
Disclaimer: Girl, bye.
When your life is on the line and you know it, you have to learn to let the chips fall where they may. There's no point in worrying about possible death when it's going to happen whether you like it or not, even if it's not from what you think. You also have to know that even if you do die, the world will keep on turning without you. You have to put your trust in the doctors that they will try their best to make you better, even if you're scared. You have to live life to the fullest, as they say, but it's more important now than ever. Of course, this mindset it much easier said then done.
When you are faced with something that could possibly danger your life and hits you like a brick in the stomach, you falter. You wonder why you haven't researched more to find out if this is as serious as you think it might be. You rest your head on a loved one's shoulder in the ambulance while you try not to get sick again, wondering what this all means. You wonder why you're so cynical, but you think you kind of have to be, just in case. But most of all, you wonder if this is the end.
You're always wondering when it's going to be the end.
Turns out, today is not the end for me, and I honestly don't know how I feel about that.
Maybe I'm selfish, maybe I'm greedy, but one thing is for damn sure; I absolutely hate the constant loop my life is in right now and I can't separate myself from this ongoing battle in my head. One minute, I'm convinced that I'll be okay, that I can overcome this cancer. Then, the next minute, I'll be crying, wondering if I should just end it all. It doesn't even make sense to me whatsoever; I have so much support from my friends, my dad, and my loving boyfriend, but I still feel depressed all the time. Everyone feels so sorry for me, but what did I expect? They felt sorry for me before I even got Leukemia, so of course things are no different now.
The doctor told me that I vomited blood because of the Chemo I started a couple of weeks ago and it's not a big deal. I'm laying down, waiting for my dad, when I hear a knock at the door. "Come in," I say hoarsely and the door opens slowly. Tori pokes her head in with a small, sympathetic smile on her face.
"Hey," she murmurs quietly.
I try and return her smile, but I'm fairly sure it comes out as a grimace. "Hey, Tori, come on in."
She walks all the way in and I see she's holding a gift bag that reads: "It's a girl!" on it in pink, sparkly letters. "Uh," I say, one eyebrow raised, pointing towards the bag.
Tori looks down, then laughs a little. She doesn't explain until she sits down at the foot of my small hospital bed. She hands me the present and says, "Sorry, it's the last bag they had. It goes pretty well with your present, though."
Curiously, I take out some tissue paper and reach inside, grabbing a small box. I take out and see that it's some Asian brand of a male B.B Cream. I laugh uncomfortably and ask, "What is this?" Even though I know full well what it is; I've been wanting to expand my male makeup collection forever.
"It's like a tone corrector, foundation, moisturizer and a bunch of other face stuff all in one, but for guys." Tori explains, and I can't help but be grateful.
"Thanks Tori!" I squeal childishly, but I couldn't care less right now. "I'm sure this cost a fortune." She just shakes her head and smiles, then says I deserve it. That's the understatement of the year, but of course I don't tell her that. She's really quiet right now, which is unlike her bubbly, lively, border-line annoying personality.
"What's wrong?" I ask after an uncomfortable silence, and she looks up at me and I see tears brimming her eyes.
She sniffles and says, "Sorry. I just hate seeing you in a hospital bed with...you know. It just scares me a lot, and I wish I wasn't so mean to you before. You know, rejecting you, making fun of you..."
"Kneeing me in the groin," I interject, earning a laugh from her. "Tori, I'm not on my death bed or anything. You weren't all that mean, trust me."
"Thanks, Robbie. I should probably let you rest, I just wanted to let you know I'm most thankful for you this year." With that, she leaves the room and I allow tears to well up in my eyes.
Before I can really think about what just happened, there's a knock at the door again. I wipe my eyes and say come in, wondering if it's another one of my friends. Or, maybe it's Beck, back with some coffee from the cafeteria. Of course, I can't be that lucky; it's the doctor. Dr. Lawless is a small, mousy man, who has wired framed glasses that never want to stay put on the bridge of his nose. He walks in with his usual clipboard and pen in hand, although he looks rather worried like always.
"How are you doing, Robbie?" He asks, pushing his glasses up.
"Robbie," he says with a sigh, "we have your long term blood work back from our lab. Do you...know what Chronic Leukemia is?"
The room is silent for a few seconds as I stop breathing. "Yes." I breathe.
"I'm sorry Robbie–"
"Go get Beck," I demand, my whole body shaking, ready to erupt in sobs.
By the time I feel those comforting, strong arms around me, I'm already crying. "What?" Beck questions frantically, "What's wrong? What is it? Robbie!"
He coaxes me into calming down enough to where Dr. Lawless starts talking. "Robbie has Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia." He says quietly in his small voice.
Beck asks with fear in his voice, "W-What does that mean?"
The doctor sighs heavily, then explains, "CLL is a type of Leukemia that increases the risk of infections because there is a low number of white blood cells. It's rare that we see it in such a young person, but of course, anything can happen in the medical world."
"So, what's the big deal?" Beck asks and I bury my head farther into his chest.
"Chronic Leukemia usually gets worse over time...And it's hard to cure."
By the time they let us leave, Beck and I are both all cried out. He tells me over and over that this doesn't mean it's the end, that anything can happen. I say things like, "Yes, sure, of course," but I really am not feeling to sure about that. My dad wants me to go home with him tonight, which is reasonable. He lets me have a few minutes with Beck in the waiting room and Beck's parents do the same. Before they go, Mrs. Oliver squeezes me tightly and says that everything will be okay and Mr. Oliver shakes my hand with sad eyes.
Beck and I sit in the empty waiting room for ten minutes, holding hands and trying not to cry. He says over and over, "Everything will be okay; this doesn't mean anything. We can't give up on getting you better, it will all be okay." Although, I can't help but wonder if he's talking to me, himself, or the empty waiting room around us. Nonetheless, I still nod and agree with him, because what else can I do? Of course, it is true that I can get better, he's right about that. There's just really no way to know, but that doesn't mean that this doesn't suck ass.
Eventually, we make it to our parents' separate cars. We hug tightly, saying we love each other at least three times each. It's hard for me to watch him leave, because I want nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms tonight without worrying about what will happen about the future. I do not want to think about the debt this could bring my father, the medical hardships I'll go through, the countless tears that will be shed. At least, I don't want to have to think about all those things yet, anyway.
Of course, just because I don't want to think about any of that, doesn't mean that I don't.
Eventually, I find myself unable to sleep. I sit up in my bed, pull the covers off, and get up. I turn the light on and look at my full length mirror, cringing at what I see. I don't remember waking up yesterday and seeing such a skinny, fragile, bald person. Yet, here I am. I realize that this is what I am and I can't change it. However, just because you can't change something, doesn't mean you have to like it.
I grab a jacket off the floor and pull it on, even though I'm sweating. Quietly, I sneak out of the apartment and find the staircase that leads up to the roof of the building. Once there, I just sit down and look at the moon, thinking about what might happen to me within the next few years. Suddenly, (or at least it seems to happen suddenly) I'm walking towards the edge of the roof. I shakily stand on the edge and feel the Los Angeles November wind slowly caress me. I think that this could be a peaceful, nice way to go, instead of the alternative that I'm facing.
I bring myself back to reality and look down at the dumpsters below me, and think that maybe, just maybe, I don't belong with the garbage like I've been telling myself all along. I step down from the ledge and simply leave the rooftop, then head back to the apartment. Before finally falling asleep, I think to myself, I will never, no matter how hard this gets, take the easy way out.
Because, after all, no one ever said life would be easy.
I'm actually quite proud of this chapter; what do you guys think?