Broken Fingers

" Dreamers often lie. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. " - Romeo and Juliet

***

So I once had this dream.

I had a dream that one day I could forget about being sick.

I could forget about the names I'm called.

I could forget about my broken family.

I could just forget about everything wrong with me and find someone who would love me all the same.

I had a dream that one day I could just be a normal girl with a normal life and a normal family. Whatever that means.

But dreams are just dreams right?

And in a year, give or take a couple days, I will die.

I guess we all have to.

***

Prologue

I was seated at the back of the small Diner as usual. I appreciated the fact that these were the only people that didn't treat me like a pity case. I was also happy that today was another bright and sunny day in our town. Taking another bite of my pathetic cheese burger, I called my waitress over. She was a bone thin woman with sunken eyes, orange skin, and fried bleached hair.

"Missy, who's that man?" I asked gesturing to the strange guy at the bar.

I had noticed him earlier and, well, I knew everyone in this town; Or everyone knew me and my family anyway, and he definitely didn't look familiar.

"I don't know little miss but he sure is pretty cute huh?" she said in her common southern accent.

I took another bite of my cheeseburger.

"More iced tea please." I demanded waiting for my command to be for filled.

"Alright little miss," she agreed taking my empty cup, "but don't think I won't charge ya that extra 75¢ just 'cause you're sick," she winked swiftly walking away.

I won't go into details, because I wouldn't want you to pity me, but I have leukemia. I was diagnosed three months ago.

As Missy walked over to the tea dispenser behind the bar counter, I took the chance to take another glance at the intruder.

His back was facing me, but I could tell from his body language that he was a well built confident man, probably no older than his early 20's. He wore fitted jeans and an edgy leather jacket, his black converse seeming to throw off the 'biker' look.

He clearly wasn't from here.

"Here ya go." said Missy handing me my drink, meanwhile, eyeing me suspiciously.

I guess she caught me checking out the guy.

"Thanks." I hissed hoping she'd get the idea and walk away. Sometimes my mom called me socially challenged, one could only wonder why?

Not amused she knowingly went back to her position behind the counter, meanwhile stoping to whisper something to the strange guy.

Not bothering to eaves drop, I proceeded to stare at him. He had ordered a beer now and was drinking it thirstily.

Mid gulp, he stopped turning around.

"You know.. Starings not very polite." he called looking me straight in the eyes. His were black.

"Who said I was polite?"

He smirked raising a thick black brow, slowly turning away.

"Missy!" I called whipping my bony hands on my napkin.

"Yes darlin'?" She smiled steadily walking over to me.

"I'd like the check please."

After paying the check and leaving Missy a generous tip, I took one last sip of my sweat tea and proceeded to the door. I made it as far as the parking lot until I stopped dead in my tracks, feeling an uncomfortable presence behind me. As if on command a rough hand gripped my arm and sent tingles down my spine.

Slowly turning around I realized it was the strange guy from the dinner. His tall 6 foot frame looming over me causing me to frown.

Why did I have to be so short?

"Why are you touching me?" I spat my brown eyes burning holes through his hand. He didn't even flinch.

"Look at me!" he hissed griping my arm tighter.

"What? Stop it you're hurting me!" I cried and he quickly loosened his grip. I eyed him as I watched his face contort in a ton of different emotions, his dark eyes squeezing shut.

"Just look at me when you speak." he whispered his black eyes meeting mine.

"Let. Me. Go." I muttered pronouncing each word sharply and letting the hatred drip from them. Who did this guy think he was? This wasn't how you treated a sick person.

One by one his fingers started to release their grip on my arm before going limp at his side. My arm growing cold. Luckily my dark brown skin didn't bruise easily or that would have definitely left a mark later on.

"Whats wrong with you?" I asked furrowing my curly eyebrows in confusion.

"You left this," he paused handing me my peach cardigan, ignoring my question completely. "That waitress, Missy, I think, asked me to return it."

I couldn't believe I had forgotten it.

"Thanks, I guess?" I shrugged eyeing him. "Who are you." I asked suspiciously. Living with cancer you learn not to waste any time beating around the bush. You simply cut it down instead.

"I'm Cavan." he stated out stretching his hand to me, a small smile forming on his parted lips. I stared at it bluntly, "You're suppose to shake it" he commented smartly.

"Nah I'm good." I retorted swiftly before turning and walking away. The heels of my red converse kicking up bits of dust off the red dirt road.

"Just because you have cancer doesn't give you the right to treat people like crap! It's honestly pathetic." He called out behind me.

Whipping around so fast I almost became  dizzy.  I was consumed with anger that made my body tremble. Who gave him the right to talk to me like that?! But before I could release my anger upon him I stopped. Instead of seeing an angered face to match his harsh words, his demeanor dripped with amusement. I vowed my hatred for him then.

"Did I hit a nerve baby doll?" He grinned and as if for the first time I noticed how gorgeous he actually was. His teeth where pearly and perfect and his smile wasn't forced at all. His beauty chilled me right to the core of my bones and all the words in the world couldn't describe his perfection. With his rugged but perfectly shaped check bones and his black eyes with thick straight black lashes contrasting against his deathly pale skin - completely opposite from my own. He was almost inhumanly perfect. Yet, the kick of his converse against the warm dirt snapped me back to the present.

"One, how do you know I have cancer? And two, do not call me baby doll you stuck up freak!" I hissed walking up to him.

"One," he stated mocking me, "That waitress told me, and two, oh yeah?"

Does no one keep anything to themselves in this town?!

He grinned a playful fire burning in his dark eyes causing my blood to boil.

He's not worth it.

He's not worth it.

He's not worth it. You could hurt yourself.

"Aw, are you upset now baby doll?" He chuckled stepping an inch forward our similar shoe taste only angering me more. As if in slow motion, I watched as his large hand reached up to playfully ruffle my curls.

That was it.

I punched him right in his perfect face.