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Chapter 1

Anastasia Hansley. One look at her and you'd never think anything was amiss. Well, that was if you did look at her. She wasn't exactly the most talkative person after all. Many thought her just an anti-social nerd who'd rather have her head stuck in a book then bother having a conversation that would be more often than not filled with boy talk that she couldn't be bothered to listen to.

It's not that she couldn't talk or was too shy too, she just knew how pointless it was. Going from foster home to foster home didn't exactly help with making friends so she'd just stopped making the effort. Leaving friends behind and starting anew wasn't a process she wished to repeat after all.

So here she was, another new day, another new town, another new house and another new school. She couldn't wait she thought flatly. She was thankful though for the fact that she didn't have to go home for the entire year until the summer holidays, well the rest of the year, she was starting a month late after all because of reasons but thankfully they'd accepted her anyway. The first thing she did when she applied was search for accommodation. Her foster parents weren't particularly horrible to be fair but they were always busy doing one thing or another so they were barely home and she hated being surrounded by nothing but the silence of the house.

It was admittedly a far cry better than some of the houses she'd been forced to live in so she'd take what she could get. Besides, she didn't have to worry about that for a long time anyway. Her foster parents were still in Chicago. She'd told them a tad bluntly that they could stay there and they'd still get the money for looking after her so there was no point coming with.

Pulling her suitcase along she pushed away the thoughts as she got nearer to the school. She couldn't wait to see where she'd be staying and the dorm room she was going to share with two other girls. She couldn't muster up the excitement she'd have once felt though had she not had other things on her mind. Something that had been mingling for a while ever since that day she'd got the report back. Not a school report or anything, no, though she'd prefer if it were because a fail could be changed with some effort, but not this. No, this report was about something else, something out of her own hands or anyone else's, something no amount of effort could ever hope to change. She was dying.

It's what had gotten her kicked out of her last foster home. They'd been nice actually, they'd supposedly cared for her until that one doctor's appointment that was supposed to have been for a simple stomach ache, but had instead turned her whole life around. They couldn't be bothered to care for someone that was dying, they wanted a child they could one day adopt, not bury, so with a few meaningless apologies she was once again abandoned. She'd not been surprised, hurt yes, but not surprised. After being sent back one too many times, she'd learnt quickly that hope was a dangerous thing so she'd begun to develop a habit of expecting the worst.

There were few things in her life that she actually truly cherished and one of them was a friend she'd made in the hospital back in Chicago, Lilliana. She'd been sad to leave her behind but atleast she had her phone number. During all her chemotherapy, radiotherapy and other treatments which had all been ineffective, she'd been her one constant. Even if she wasn't assigned to her, she always made time outside of the hospital to call or to come over and see how she's doing and she truly appreciated the nurse. She was truly her only friend in this world, which was honestly just sad.

Lilliana had noticed the very few visits during the treatments from her current "parents" who only stayed to ask the general question, "How are you feeling?" They'd left soon after she'd given them a sarcastic, "Like I'm dying," as an answer. Guess they didn't appreciate her morbid sense of humor. She knew the only reason they bothered was because of the extra money they got for caring for a cancer patient, and it was a lot to be honest.

She sighed at the trajectory of her thoughts as she walked across the huge expanse of greenery that lead to the huge school in the distance where she could see a lot of children milling about. It was cold this morning she thought shivering slightly as a strong gush of wind rushed past flowing through her once long thick hair.

She was still not her best after the multiple treatments, her hair had fallen and her skin had tinged grey but it wasn't so bad now. Her hair had grown back to her shoulders, not as thick as they used to be but better, and her skin looked more like it used to as well, though still paler than usual. It was another symptom of her current situation and the cyramza she had to consume wasn't helping with this particular problem since anemia was also a side effect of the drug. She had also admittedly lost quite a bit of weight since the stupid stomach cancer ruined her appetite more often than not.

The doctors had told her that since the treatments weren't working, they had to resort to surgery to remove the part of her stomach where most of the tumours were growing so after another one of her many scans, they'd told her with pity in their eyes that unfortunately it was still spreading. Their last resort was immunotherapy. It wasn't often this method of treatment was used for the treatment of stomach cancer but since every other method was proving ineffective, they'd had no choice. They were going to use a drug called Cyramza. It was known to have some quite life-threatening side effects but she had no choice now.

Without it, she would have a few months at best but with it, she may be able to make it through or past the year. She scoffed bitterly as she thought what the point of dragging it was. She didn't have anything to live for. No one would care if she was gone. She'd be there one minute, and gone the next, and life for everyone would continue on as normal as if she'd never existed so should she really drag out her pain for nothing?

The stomach pains were getting a bit worse and it would only get more frequent and painful through the year apparently, the painkillers helped slightly but not much, though there was nothing much you can do when you're at stage 4. She didn't want to just sit down and wait for death to come though, she wanted to make her last moments worth it.

She'd thought before all this that she'd grow up and leave the system when she reached 18 and find a life for herself with no more foster homes to deal with but clearly that was not the case. She may be 18 but with her many treatments she had the choice to leave the system but stay in the hospital under constant supervision or remain with her foster parents since she couldn't live by herself in such a condition. Staying encased within the dreary white walls of the hospital was the last thing she wanted so she agreed to stay with her foster parents.

Obviously it was no different than living by herself since they were barely home but she'd made do on her own. At least she'd passed her 18th birthday, that was something she supposed with morbid optimism. It would have sucked to die 17. Not sure why but it just would have. She sighed to herself before she entered the school gates and walked inside the building. It was early in the morning so there was barely anyone about, most likely in their dorm rooms or at home. She made her way to the receptionist and after a few minutes she was given her key, schedule and instructions to her dorm room. She thanked her and followed the instructions but halfway through them she found herself lost.