The parts you leave behind

Chapter 1*

Blair's POV

I know life is short but....

When I was little I had this overbearing fear. And I was an adventurous kid so not many things made me scared but this one thing always managed to make me second guess what I did. Which sucks because when you're young, you shouldn't have to be worried about things like that.

About everything that could go wrong.

My grandpa died, and I didn't understand it at first. How someone who was just there, breathing, with blood coursing through their veins. How they could all the sudden just disappear one day like they never existed. And people say you live in memory but the reality of it is superficial. When you're dead, you're dead.

And I didn't get why I couldn't see him anymore. I didn't get why I couldn't ever hear his voice, or hold his hand again. Then my parents sat me down and gave me the talk about death at the young age of 6.

They told me that one day were all going to die, and we have no idea when. Yeah they were really sucky at giving that talk. But then I had this idea in my mind that if my grandpa died I could too, so I tiptoed around everything until my parents noticed my restraint to do anything so they asked me what was wrong.

I told them about my fear of dying. Of just disappearing and ceasing to exist in this world filled with billions of people. Then they said I wouldn't die like grandpa because he was old, so then I believed I couldn't die because I was young. Like having a few less years makes you special enough to have this protective coat from the world.

Key word: Believed.

But now here I am. My names still Blair Rivera, my hairs still brown, my eyes are still green, I still love cookies and cream ice cream, I can still watch horror movies while I'm eating. I'm still the same person from when I was a kid except I'm 17 now. Pretty old right? Well yeah turns out you don't have to be in your 80's to be dying.

My brain thought that though. Kept that imbedded in my mind so I wouldn't be scared of anything. Except my brain is the one that betrayed me more than anyone I've ever known. First it lied to me. Led me to believe everything would be okay, and now? Well now my heads occupied by a little something more.

A tumor to be exact. Or a Glioblastoma mulitiforme to be even more exact than before. Otherwise known as a malignant tumor in my brain that grows and spreads rapidly without mine or the doctors control. Yeah real fun sounding I know.

My doctors did a surgery once. It was supposed to be my first resection, but you want to know what they found out? It was so invasive that if they were to go in I'd either come out paralyzed, no memory, unable to speak, or just come out plain brain dead. Long story short I had about a 20% chance of living at that point, and I was already terminally ill so I couldn't take those odds.

They said I was incurable. Like I was a disease of some kind, and honestly I know that's what this tumor makes me. I know I'm not just Blair anymore, I'm cancer. And I don't want anyone else to think like I do, so why don't I tell people I have a tumor? Because I can't stand the thought of being treated like I need pity for this unfortunate event.

Rick just sucks. And yes I named my tumor, only because I wanted to make fun with a serious situation so now if he acts up I can rhyme with it. Rick the prick, Rick the dick, Rick the sick. Anyways I got a whole list, and I needed some humor out of this tumor. I love rhyming, I need something to help me hold on to while it drives me out of my existence slowly.

"Okay Blair we're going to pull you out now." Doctor Jones informs me over the speakers, and I sigh as I open my eyes then look up at the lights that fill the small space before I feel the patient bed begin to move outward.