Human [Klaus Mikaelson]

Chapter One: The Call

September 2017.

The house phone ringing made Olivia sit up in her bed. She had been a deep sleep, she sighed, looking at her side table. Her alarm clock flashed 9:09 AM. She laid her head softly back on her pillows, letting her eyes trail her white ceiling. Before her diagnosis, she never slept in. Olivia loved to wake up before dusk and watch the sun rise.

She enjoyed sipping warm coffee on a dew-covered porch, hearing the birds sing on a new day. However, the last two months have started with Olivia waking up later and later. She and her mother had more questions than answers when her biopsy came back last month.

"It's the weirdest thing." Dr Baker had said, looking into her eyes.

He explained that the tumor on her brain was not cancerous.

"How is that possible?" Olivia had asked, swinging her feet against the bed in the exam room.

"I wish I could give you an answer." Baker said. "It's a medical mystery."

Olivia thought medical mysterious were always positive. However, clearly that was not the case. The tumor was growing so fast everyone was sure it was cancer.

"If it isn't cancer, can we stop it from growing?" Olivia had asked.

She could tell by Dr.Baker's look the answer was no.

Before they left, he commented that Olivia had lost three pounds.

"She isn't eating." Her mother said from her seat.

"Olivia." Br.Baker scolded, "You have to eat."

"What's the point?" Olivia asked, "I'm dying."

"The point is to keep you strong so you can live as long as possible."

Olivia rolled her eyes thinking of the memory. Dr.Baker wrote her a prescription for depression medication. She takes it. However, it does nothing to help the emptiness inside her. Olivia can only think about her external clock that ticks every minute. Every minute she is closer and closer to death.

Olivia could hear her mother's mumbles. She was speaking to someone on the phone. Olivia was surprised people were still calling. Once word of her diagnosis spread, their home was a mad house. People stopping by people calling by. Her friends from Parson's came by. That meant a lot to Olivia. However, it was now September, and everyone had moved on with their lives. Everyone except Olivia and her mother.

Olivia threw her purple comforter off, letting her feel dangle off her full-size bed. She had a window beside her bed that overlooked the side yard. It was a beautiful day. Birds were out, she could see the trees moving with a soft wind. It was the type of day she longed for.

She let her eyes trail around the small back bedroom. She had a full-size bed in the center, with a window to her right. Across from her bed were a row of oak bookshelves filled with novels and music she loved. To her right was a small desk she would slump over and draw at for hours. Her art was hanging all through the room. She felt tears sting in her eyes. She was going to miss home most of all. She worried about her mother. When Olivia died, she would have no one.

Olivia let her feet hit the hard wood floors under her. She stood on her own feet, running a hand through her red hair. She quietly patted her way out of her room and down the hall. Their home was modest. It was an older brick home from the 1960s. There was a small hallway that led to the bathroom, Olivia's room, and her mother's.

The hallway came out in the living room. Her mother had the living room decorated with a lot of art on the walls. Her favorite place was the blue couch that sat across from their bay windows. Olivia loved to sit on it and watch the property. Off the living room was the kitchen, and a small back door. The laundry was tucked down in the basement.