A/N: WOAH FANFICTION CHANGED

i hope you don't think the cancer thing is overdone, but this time, Peeta has cancer

just as a plot twist

inspired by Ways to live forever and The Fault in our stars, read them.

also thanks to my awesome dad who doesn't think i'm weird for writing fan fiction and being a doctor and giving me some scienific background information

chapters will get longer, this is just a prologue

see you guys soon :)

R&R please :)

SATURDAY SEPTEMBER 24TH 2011 18:23

A PROLOUGE OF SORTS:

I'm not really that sure how to start our story; I could start it in many ways, because this is a story that has countless beginnings The day 11 year old me found baskets laden with food and essentials sitting innocently at my doorstep. The day Peeta went to the doctor's surgery for the first time in six years, sporting a nervous smile and a skip in his step. The day I heard the word "Leukemia" being whispered hurriedly around the classroom, spreading like a wildfire. The day Peeta told me he wanted to be remembered, to leave a mark on this world. The day I started this diary, but I think I'll start this where all good stories start. The real beginning, just before the plot starts to thicken and the events begin to unfold. Where first impressions are crucial and you can decide who you love and who you hate. It has to be completely honest, I promised Peeta, no glorifying myself and no demonizing doctors. This should be easy.

Monday.

Peeta Mellark was off school.

It wasn't that much of a big deal to me, I mean, Peeta Mellark was always off school, always with a cold or an infection, and when he was in school, he was always sniffing and clearing his throat, baring his teeth in the occasional growl of frustration. Although you would never catch him in a doctors surgery, "nuh uh not ever", I've since seen the pile of outdated letters warning him that he had missed his six month check-up, and that he should attend , getting gradually more desperate until they were plain threatening, but sixteen year old me doesn't know that so…

That day, I wasn't sure why, his empty seat at the end of the classroom seemed more menacing, more eerie, I found my eyes straying to look at it regularly, sometimes imaging him sitting there, dwarfing his little chair for 11 year olds that our school won't replace because they're so cheap. I quickly tore my eyes away and scolded myself though, by this time I was convinced that Peeta Mellark was bunking, anyway, and why should I care about Peeta Mellark? I was definitely not about to become one of those girly girls who whispered about his "perfect nose" and "chiseled jawline" (their words not mine) never, I was Katniss Everdeen the badass-iest girl in the school, who wouldn't be caught dead whispering about anybody.

It was a relief when the bell went signalling that the time for assembly had come, I normally dreaded assembly, It was tiring enough going to lessons, but our head teacher insisted we all role play Hogwarts, what with the robes and ornate chairs and tables, and his stupid freaking walking cane. I needed to get away from form room though, I had this terrible feeling, like a stone sitting at the pit of my stomach that something was wrong, but I ignored it, and marched silently to assembly, stony faced and agitated. The short walk felt like a death march.

Stomping to assembly, I couldn't help but overhear two girls talking, in what they thought were hushed voices.

"Leukemia."

"What?"

"Leukemia, Peeta has it. That's the theme of assembly,"

By this time, my palms were sweating, my face burned red.

"Oh poor Peeta, that's so sad."

"Tell me about it,"

"I read a book about leukemia once."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, really sad, s'called "ways to live forever," the main character had leukemia."

I'd read that book before, it was a really famous one. I was eleven years old I was when I read it. I remembered a purple cover. A boy with leukemia, someone called Felix with a bowler hat. A wheelchair. A list of ways to live forever. I really couldn't pin point what happened at the end though, I was reaching for the information, hidden somewhere in the depths of my mind, but my metaphorical hand fell pathetically short.

"Yeah, it's really sad in the end. The boy dies."