I stare at the door long after she leaves, half hoping that she'll come back, even though I know she won't.
My heart begins to beat faster when someone knocks at the door, but my hopes quickly drop when I don't see her hazel hair and chocolate eyes staring back. Instead, my sister Genesis walks in, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She's dressed in a pale gray tank top and a pair of maroon leggings. She likes to run to the hospital from our house a lot, because apparently it's 'not that far.'
It's four miles each way.
"Hey Ash," She says, plopping down onto the chair in front of my desk, heaving a great sigh. I want to get up and force her to get out of my chair. Her sweat always soaks into the fabric and then my room smells like B.O for the rest of the day, but she won't even listen, so I don't say a thing.
"Who was that girl in your room?" She asks, waggling her eyebrows. I feel my face turn beet red as I stare at the tiled floor.
"No one, just a new girl who wanted to make sure the dying kid knows who she is."
Genesis sends me a look that could burn holes. She, along with everyone else I know, does not like when I talk about dying. I mean, I'm not gonna make it anyways, so why sugarcoat it?
"Maybe she just needs a friend. It wouldn't be the worst thing for you either. You need some human interaction while you're here."
I roll my eyes, flopping back onto my bed. "Come on Gen, death is inevitable."
"Death may be inevitable, but it's what you do with the time you do have that makes the difference."
I scoff, smiling "You can think that if you want, I'm just trying to prepare you."
I'm so tired of her speeches , once a day, every day for the rest of my short, pathetic life. I know she means well, but listening to her endless blabbering about purpose and fighting to live is getting old.
She shakes her head, standing up. "I was gonna ask if you wanted to go on a walk, but you obviously aren't in the mood for that."
"No, no, I'm fine." I insist, standing up, dragging my IV pole behind me. "Let's go, please?"
She laughs, helping me get my jacket on. "I knew you would like that."
***
The sun feels pleasantly warm on my face. I haven't been outside in weeks. My nurses say that my skin will get burned easier with the medication i'm on, but I just think that they know that if they tell me I would just be in more pain without dying would deter me from running off. Well, they're right.
Genesis stands behind me, pushing my wheelchair down the street.
Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that. Due to one of the many conditions I suffer from, I usually can't walk on my own. On a good day, I can get around with crutches, but some days, I need help getting out of bed. Today is not one of my good days, especially after wrestling with my nurses in the hall, I'm exhausted.
Gen doesn't say anything as she walks us down the path to the edge of our favorite lake, parking my wheelchair at the edge of the water and sitting down on the ground next to me.
Even though Gen says today is one of the warmer days this month, and even though I'm dressed in a heavy coat and gloves, I'm freezing.
"Do you want to go back?" She asks, probably noticing that my arms are shaking like trees in the wind.
I shake my head quickly, clenching my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. "I'm fine."
She presses her hand against my forehead, pulling away quickly.
"You're burning up." She says, almost too calm as she stands up, pulling us away from the lake. I try to protest, but the second I open my mouth my teeth start to chatter violently.
I keep my head down as she walks us back to the hospital, pulling my jacket tighter around my body. I hate this feeling, the feeling of not being able to do anything for yourself. I miss the time of my life when death wasn't looming over me like this. I mean, sure it was still scary, but I wasn't afraid of dying. I thought I would get better, but I soon discovered hope is all a big hoax and there was no use lying to myself.
I long for the sun as we enter the hospital, but I know I won't have sun for a while. It's strange the things that people take for granted, like the ability to feel warmth, or to not be afraid of dying. To sleep in your own bed and to eat a good homecooked meal. I've missed that.
I want to thank my sister, but as soon as we enter through the doors, I'm whisked away by one of my nurses. They ask me questions, but I block them out. I've done this more then I would like to admit.
They rush me back to my room, lifting me into bed and stabbing me with some sort of sedative. I gladly fall into the sweet comfort of sleep. It allows me to dream of the girl who I can't seem to ignore.

YOU ARE READING
The Unexplainable You.
RomancePortland Cromwell should be happy. She has a perfect family, a cheesy best friend and her whole life in front of her. But things start to go downhill like a mudslide. Doctors trying to pinpoint why she keeps passing out randomly and why she always h...