An Imperial Affliction

Chapter 4

To Myself:

Hello again, Reader. Today was Monday. My weekend was fairly uneventful, except for Claire's date of course. That, and mother decided my wardrobe was not fit to walk the halls of my Californian highschool.

"A change in your wardrobe would not be a bad thing," she smiled at me while reading a magazine on, you guessed it, flowers.

I sighed, "Wouldn't a change in my wardrobe suggest that I am a unsatisfactory individual who can not make decisions based on personal preferences and is to be avoided by any prospective individuals?"

My mother had the audacity to laugh at my question while answering, "I don't have a clue to as what you meant, but all I know is you have three pairs of Chuck Taylor's and about seven shirts that all look the same."

Then I went shopping.

I bought a pair of flip flops that were all too bright and a brand new, bright red shirt.

All for my mother.

You too reader, would buy new clothing whenever your mother suggested it if you too had experienced a life threatening disease that threatens the existence of ones motherhood. All in all I felt like I owed her, almost dying and stuff.

This morning I woke up and threw on the red shirt, with its large, yet still appealing, black graphic bow. I paired this with my jeans, and of course my black chucks. I threw a black jacket into my school bag, because I wanted my mother to think I was wearing something with a bit more color, yet I did not want to wear something with a bit more color at school. When I hopped into my mothers car, she wore a big smile and complimented my attire, with only a slight grimace at my shoes. (Mom, if you are reading this, do note that your unappreciation towards my shoes was not well hidden in your revealing eye.) I would have much rather drove myself, but my mother prefers to have one "family car" as to save on gas, and therefore encourage bonding.

I arrived at school at 7:15, as I always do, and I waited in the east parking lot for Claire's car to arrive. When she pulled up, she brought with her three styrofoam coffee cups, one filled with a pumpkin latte, another with a soothing herbal tea, the third filled with hot chocolate. I grabbed my cup, and handed Claire her dollar in exchange. It all works out quite well, Claire gets the coffee because she is closest, and we pay her.

"It's 7:18 Claire, a minute behind," I joked towards her.

Claire was busy rummaging through her book bag as she grumbled, "I know I know. But at least I'm not last!"

"That's right, you save that spot for me, don't-cha Anna?" a third voice chimed, "Claire, you do know school starts in a half an hour, you don't need your papers out now?"

"Good morning Christie," Claire sighed while laughing and handing her a hot chocolate, "But I have to leave you guys. Jake asked me to help him study, it's just for today. I swear."

I laughed at her "We understand. Now go rush and help your boyfriend! Don't spill your latte!"

Claire waved and ran off, not before yelling, "He's not my boyfriend."

Christie and I took our usual table and began discussing our weekend as we finished our drinks. We then proceeded to walk and talk around the outdoor area of our grand school campus. Christie was wearing a bright pink baseball tee, hair threw up in a messy bun, with leggings, going down to sparkly silver converse. It was a perfection representation of Christie, girly, yet too busy and rushed around to give her outfit any effort, all while holding a modestly sporty look. I had met her in grade school, and we became instant friends when she kicked the kickball so hard it smacked me in the face. I was sitting on a bench, patiently watching, because I was too weak to play, and too well not to attend school. Our teacher made Christie sit next to me on the bench afterwards, and we began to commentate the game. Every recess, it was tradition for us to commentate from that very bench, even when I became healthy enough to play again.

Ver"Look at her. She totally just bought those shoes. I owned them first. We are in highschool and she is still copying me," Christie whispered to me while glaring at her archenemy, Paige Santio. Paige was the epitome of jealousy. Everything Christie did, Paige did. Christie was her friend when we were younger, and that's when the copying began. Paige ran around with the "popular crowd" and Christie preferred the more quiet company of Claire and I. Paige proceeded to excommunicate Christie and then copy her every move. Christie got a boyfriend, Paige got a boyfriend. Christie got a haircut, Paige got a haircut ect.

Christie again grunted in disgust, "Paige Santio literally copies me and then walks around like a goddess. Do I walk around like a goddess? No. Ugh. I swear, if it was legal, I'd kick her so hard she would turn straight into dust."

"Sublimate. You'd kick her so hard she'd sublimate," I chimed in aimlessly.

"Yeah that," she agreed, "And then I'd put her back together into a human form, and do it again."

"That's not fair."

Christie laughed, "Well I think she deserves it."

I looked up at Christie, "No not that. Well that's not really fair either but that's besides the point. What's not fair is that their is a word for sublimation, but not a word for reverse sublimation. What if something was to reverse sublimate? We downgrade it and don't give it a name? How rude of us as humans to disregard of whole form of change because we seem it unfit of its own name. Don't you agree?"

"Umm yeah," Christie laughed, "Remind me again what sublimation is?"

"Well it's when..." I began.

"Scratch that I don't care," she interrupted, "What I do care about though, is AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

Around Christie"s side came Ryan Tether, baseball star, average student, and Christie's boyfriend.

"Scare ya?" he smirked as he pulled her in for a kiss, " Sup Anna? How you feeling?"

If you have ever had cancer, you would know that while everyone plays you off as a heroic fighter, deep down they all see you as a fragile breakable piece of china that needs to be checked up on twenty four seven. You learn to disregard this as caring, or if you don't your mother will give you several lectures on how to behave yourself properly. So I smiled at Ryan and nodded my head as I reassured him for the thousandth time that my health was fine and I was still cancer free and no I was not feeling weak at all.

Christie broke away from Ryan's chest and hit him playfully "What's that all about?"

He laughed, "I was just checking up on Anna. Is that not okay?"

"No that's utter crap"

"Excuse me Chris, but I'm a little confused," Ryan replied in the most caring voice, as if worried he had offended his princess.

" Its not just you Ryan, it's everyone. She's okay? She's always okay. She's been okay for a long time now. Anna's cancer is gone. And just because she had cancer, doesn't mean she is some delicate flower. Stop treating her like a sick puppy," Christie said, "I swear, Anna is one of the most forgiving people on earth. If I got asked how I felt all time, I'd explode."

Ryan caressed her cheek, "Fine. Fine. I won't do it again. I'm real sorry Anna. I didn't mean it. Don't be mad Chris. I just needed a little reminding."

Christie's eyes sparked like whenever she got an idea. She proceeded to stand up on the table we were near, and overlook all of the students in the area. "You guys all know my friend Anna?" she shouted, "She had cancer once. But it's gone. G-O-N-E. Gone. So stop asking her if she's okay. I swear, she's fine. Not sick. Fine. Because the cancer is gone."

And with that she jumped off the table.

The bell rang. Christie kissed Ryan goodbye and waved to me. I watched her strut down the hallway with confidence overflowing. Ryan rolled his eyes at me and with a goodbye, left after her. I turned around to find Claire behind me, ready for our first class.

"She's crazy. Absolutely crazy." Claire laughed.

I nodded in agreement.

Christie Brinks is a very appreciated friend.

(Reader I hate to ruin the moment, but I asked my science teacher and he says reverse sublimation is utterly impossible and I told him that was utterly untrue because plenty of things impossible can be achieved and I was sent back to my seat. Utter injustice for reverse sublimation.)