Happily

Chapter 2

I still have not cried. Not a single tear has left my tiresome eye. I have not talked to anyone either. Lauren's death left me feeling lost and broken. As cliché as it sounds, we were actually like one person. We were so alike, yet so different.

She could make me smile just by saying one of her dumb jokes. The joke weren't funny, of course, it's just the way her face lit up when she told me them. The way she started to giggle after she would say them could make me laugh for minutes, sometimes even hours.

Just thinking about the good days we spent together made me smile, but my smirk slipped away when the thought of never seeing her again arrived back in my mind.

I started to cry.

And I did not stop crying until I was too weak to do anything.

Leukemia will be the death of me. Literally. I will die weak and vulnerable. I will be known as 'the girl who couldn't beat cancer' or 'the girl who couldn't take anymore'. I do not what to be called any of those names. I want to be known as 'the girl who changed the world'. The only problem with that is that I haven't changed anything. I can't even change my outfit without somebody helping me.

Lauren had the same dream as I did, but sadly she did not conquer hers the way she wished she would have change the world.

My train of thoughts was broken by my nurse coming into the tiny room that I have lived in for a few months.

"Good afternoon, Carter. Do you need anything?"

"No thank you. I just really have to go to the bathroom."

"Do you need any help getting there?"

"Oh Sheryl. You know I don't need any help." I tell the nurse.

"I know. I just thought that you would need a little extra help today. If you need anything, Carter, just hit the button."

"I know. You have been telling me this for as long as I was here." I say quite annoyed.

"I know, I know. Same routine, I guess." She giggles.

She is too annoying for me. She is a good worker, I do know that, but she treats me as if I am three. Just because I am weaker than most 17 year olds, doesn't mean I can't do things on my own.

As soon as she leaves me alone, I quickly get out of my bed and wobble towards the bathroom. I stare into the mirror, and see someone with dark circle under their eyes. Someone with such little hair, it looks as if their bald. I see someone who looks so fragile, it looks as if a breeze could knock them over. I see myself.

I have looked like this for about 2 years now, which means I looked like shit for 2 years. I used to be 'pretty', I guess. Thats what everyone use to tell me, anyway. My soft brunette hair was down to the middle of my back. I wasn't skinny. I wasn't overweight. I was average.

I miss being average. I miss being a normal teenage girl, but I cannot. Leukemia has taken over my life. Everything I do revolves around it.

Therefore, I hate my life.