Emily Sanders and the List (on hold)

Chapter 14

I examine myself in my bathroom mirror, thoughts flooding through my brain.

This is it. I constantly said. Today is the day I either get better or worse. And dear god how I hoped it was better.

I recently woke up to remember that today is Thursday. The day of my chemo appointment. And I almost had a panic attack right then and there.

To say I was scared was an understatement. It was more like horrified. Even petrified! I shivered from the thought of something bad happening to me.

As I gazed at myself, I took in everything about me. After today it's all going to change. Granted I wasn't perfect. Far from it as a matter of fact. But I knew this is the last time I would look this good for awhile. Maybe even ever.

I slowly run my fingers through my soft hair, stopping as I reach the tips to twirl them. I won't have hair. I thought. I then lay my hands on my throat. I'll be sick constantly. I move side ways for a profile view and graze my hand over my waist and wide hips. This is all going to change.

I've never been a fan of my body. I always thought I was to curvy, chunky even. But now that I might lose all that and look terrible, I know I will miss it.

Its a strange feeling, having cancer. I look ok physically. I could get a little more sleep and be less stressed but other then that, I'm fairly decent. Or at least today I am.

And yet, on the inside, I feel weak, frail, and maybe even a little ugly. It's hard to describe. What makes it worse is that everything I feel will now be visible on the outside, for the public to see. In a way its like declaring I'm officially sick. And I don't like that idea.

People will obviously stare. I have never been good with people staring. Freaks me out. And what will boys think? I highly doubt I'll be getting a secret admirer note in my locker anytime soon.

But most importantly, what will my friends think. Will they abandon me? Or worse make fun of me? What about Caleb. Will he think I'm to sick to continue, cut the deal, and never talk to me again? I don't want that to happen. My eyes start to water just thinking about it. I whimper as I wipe the tear away and finish getting ready. With shaky hands I put on a gray v-neck and pink cotton shorts. I throw on an over sized denim flannel on and my gray knee high wool socks.

As I slowly braid my hair I hear thunder outside, startling me. I go to my window to see rain drops hitting it. Just great

I quickly go into my closet and find my dark green rain boots and pull them on. I guess this will do.