Dear Angel (E.V.)

Prologue

Death is a peculiar concept. We all fear it, yet no one knows it. Because no one knows what happens after death. Some people have their beliefs, but none of them have proof about what happens once you're on the other side. Venture ourselves toward Death is therefore a road which the destination is unknown. I was on that road, being closer to Death every day. Because Death had its eyes upon me. Every day it watched for the specific time when it will come and get me. That day will come, of course, because it comes for everyone. I just knew my moment was meant to come sooner than anyone else. But one thing was clear... It didn't happen the way I planned.

People say that life is full of surprises, and I guess they're right about that. However, I realized at my own expense that those surprises are not only joyful. Sometimes they invade your heart with sorrow. And there is not much you can do about it, except live with it, with the pain. That's what I did, most of the time – accept my fate and simply live with it. I thus lived a peculiar life. I can't say that my life was ordinary because according to me it wasn't. And I think it's a story worth telling, but that's up to you to tell me.

It all started nine years ago when my elder sister got sick. Life was so perfect before that day, but ever since, the life that we built seemed to be falling apart piece by piece. I remember that day as if it was yesterday. Ana lost consciousness suddenly in the middle of our diner. My dad called an ambulance and we all rushed to the hospital. The ER doctor ran a few tests on Ana and when her blood tests came back, he entered the room we were in with a face I have never seen on a doctor before. My dad is a physician too, he told me a lot about how the hardest part of his job was to deliver bad news to his patients, and by Doctor Jones' face, I could tell that he wasn't about to talk about fairies and unicorns. Even though I was only 10 at that moment I knew something was wrong.

That's when he told us that Ana had a form of leukemia that was called Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia, ALL for short. ALL is a type of leukemia that is usually found in children. It is harder to cure an adult, but not impossible. My dad swore that day that he would try anything to save his daughter. She tried chemotherapy, but it didn't work. She also tried targeted therapy, immunotherapy, and radiation therapy, none of them worked. As nothing worked, her chances of survival were low, she had only a couple of years in front of her if her body couldn't hold any treatments. The last hope they had was with a bone marrow transplant. But after testing every member of our family, they realized I was the only one who was compatible enough for a graft. When my dad told me about it, I remember standing up and saying out loud "I'll do it". But then he told me that bone marrow transplant donors had to be at least 16 to give bone marrow. I wanted to help my sister so bad, but I was only 10. I wanted to save her life. But well, I didn't get the chance to...

5 years after her diagnosis, Ana was always at home, she stopped going to university as she was too sick. My mother was mostly working from home so she could keep an eye on Ana, while dad was working at the hospital. And me, well I was where you expect a 15 years old girl to be – at school. One day, when I woke up to get ready to go to school, I realized that Ana was sick as usual, but there was something special that day. I realized for a couple of days that her condition was getting worse, she was sleeping more, eating less, barely talking, and moving. But that day, she woke up early and she even prepared breakfast. I was happy to see her that way, she seemed fine and for the first time in what seemed like forever, I went to school lightheaded. I wasn't worried that day to have a call from my dad saying that my sister passed. But against all the odds, this is the day where it happened. She died that day, in her room as she was about to take a nap. My mother found her a couple of hours later. An Ambulance came to take Ana to the hospital while my mother came to school to get me. When I got in the car I saw her emotionless face, and I must admit that I had the same face. You would've expected us to cry her death, but the reality was that we just couldn't. I felt like my soul left my body that day, taking every emotion with it. It seemed surreal, like if it were in a nightmare. We were powerless and speechless. Back then I felt anger for not having said goodbye to her. I felt guilty because I had the power to save her life, but I was too young to do so. She died 2 months before my 16th birthday, which made me even more angry and guilty. At her funerals, everyone cried, even my mother cried that day, but not me. The only emotion I felt was anger. That's probably the moment when I realized that as long as I'll feel angry and guilty about her death, I will not be able to cry. Even though I felt terrible at her funeral, even if suddenly I felt extremely lonely, even if I just lost my best friend, my strong big sister, the prettiest girl alive, my model... even though I should've been remembering her smile that she wore even in the darkest days, I could only think about all the days that won't see that smile. Or maybe was I thinking of all the days I have left without her smile to calm me when I was scared.

I was standing there, in front of my sister's grave as her casket was slowly disappearing in the earth, holding her heart-shaped necklace against my chest. That necklace was so important to her. I couldn't even remember the reason why she wore it every day, but she did it. And at that moment it was everything I had left. It was everything I had left of my sister, my best friend, my guide. I missed her so much that day. It was extremely painful for me to be standing there knowing that I could have done something to avoid this. But somehow, I knew that I was meant to see her again soon.

Around a year before Ana passed, my mom had a call from my dad. I swear I never heard him cry that much in my entire life. And he had every reason to cry. My dad found out with his team that day that I was also suffering from ALL, just like Ana. And I was going to die, just like Ana. That news hasn't shaken me as much as it shook my parents. I kept on thinking that I was not normal for not feeling anything about it. But today, I can admit that it was probably because I didn't want to keep on living anymore. I wasn't ready to live without Ana. So, I thought if my fate was to die, then so be it.

A couple of years after Ana passed, I started to feel better a little bit about her death, or maybe was it what I wanted to make everyone believe. The truth is that I was not okay. My sister was gone for 3 years and yet I still felt like she would pass the door anytime, that she would come back. It was almost impossible to live without her, to live with the fact that she won't come back. It was hard to not have her around, to live without her. To live without her voice to rock me at night with the sound of her guitar. She loved to sing and to play the guitar so much. It was hard to live without her smile that could make the grumpiest person smile. To live without her presence... her so comporting presence during my chemo when I lost all my hair. Honestly, it felt like I lost a part of myself. Even though we knew that her time was around the corner, we never really know when exactly it will happen.

After Ana passed away, my parents decided that it was best if they went separate ways. They loved each other, but they were always arguing. They both ended up being different due to the pain. Dad felt guilty and mom felt lost. And I think that somehow, due to the pain they lost each other. So, they decided to get a divorce. And then, sooner than expected, I found myself helping my mother to move to her new house in Lost Angeles, while my dad stayed in San Francisco.

When my dad moved to the United States with my Nonna, they established themselves in San Francisco. Nonna was so hyped about that city, she had fun collecting every little thing that she could find with the Golden Gate on it. But then, my dad went to Los Angeles for his medical studies. And that's where he met my mother. As soon as I was born, they moved to San Francisco to be close to Nonna. After her breakup, my mother had a job offer in L.A. She accepted it. I guess that getting back to her root was a good way to start a new chapter of her life. That way maybe she could be happy again, well that's what I thought.

I moved with my mom to Los Angeles because my dad started to work more. Mom said that he became a workaholic to keep his head away from the pain. So, I figured that moving with my mom was the best for both of us. But he was always calling me whenever he had a moment.

And then, my condition started getting worse than ever. I was feeling so bad all the time, it was insane. I always have been weak, ever since I could remember, even as a child, I always felt tired, but I thought that I was just being lazy. Well turned out I had a weak immune system. So, I was always sick. Cold, flu, pneumonia, bronchitis, I got them all, many times. I guess that we were so busy trying to find a way to cure Ana that we didn't see how bad my condition was.