Cold Colours (EDITING)

Chapter I

"What! I don't have that kind of money!" I shout at the doctor in front of me, who stared right back at me with a small smile on his face. He was really trying to keep me calm, but it wasn't working. Panic was coursing through my veins, the doctor's words startling me to the point of complete mental breakdown.

"(Y/N) your mother is getting the best treatment there is for miles. it's going to be costly."

"It's gonna be costly! How the heck is one person supposed to be able to pay that amount of money!" I shout, my hand coming up to point at my chest violently at the 'one person'. After I had, my hand fell to my lap in a fist. It felt like I couldn't breathe. Like I was underwater, unable to take in the air surrounding me. I was drowning.

"(Y/N) I told you, you only have to pay half of the money up front. The rest will be paid in installments." The doctor spoke softly, leaning forward in his seat to look at me. He meant the best. Anyone could tell that he did but it was still hard to hear it.

My eyes press closed, my lungs desperately trying to calm themselves down from the panic attack I had almost had. Only when I could breathe again did I open my eyes. In front of me once again was the same doctor with the same pitying smile. It was a smile I knew wanted to help as many people as possible. I just wasn't one of those people.

"20,000 dollars up front?" I whisper, wanting confirmation from the doctor. It was all too much. With this news and the fight with my best friend, I could feel my heart starting to crack. Things had never been going well, but they had been better than this two days ago. Why did Mother Nature hate me so?

"Yes (Y/N), that is correct." The doctor spoke professionally. He was tense in his seat across from me. For once I wondered if it was me as a person or my situation that was pulling out his pitying smile. "You have two weeks to-"

"I'll have the money to you by the deadline. I promise." I suddenly spew. By the way the doctor's eyes widened slightly I could tell he was surprised by my outburst. I was too; I couldn't pay that much money in such a short amount of time. It was almost impossible with the barely bill-paying job I had now.

"Well, that's nice to hear (Y/N)." The doctor nods to me before standing from his seat. His coat flutters behind him almost annoyingly as he steps to the door of his office. With a gust of wind, the door was open, revealing the ugly hallways of a hospital I knew all too well. I had always hated this hospital.

The walls of the narrow hallway were a decrepit off white. The shade clashed with the pristine Snow White of the perfect tile floor. The only thing separating the floor and the wall was a small baseboard the color of light green. Let me tell you, it did nothing for the area. As I glance down the narrow opening I see patients and nurses shuffle here and there. A weeping parent or sibling sat hunched over by one closed door. Beside them was a nurse desperately trying to comfort the poor soul.

"I visited her but she was asleep. I'll probably drop by and see if she's up yet." I suddenly speak up to the doctor, standing myself. I push down the conversation. This man was a doctor who had people to take care of. Dragging this conversation on was useless.

My eyes rise to look at the man as I step past him and into the putrid hallway. As I take steps out into the open I feel the door close behind me. My doctor brushes shoulders with me as he heads for the closest room.

"That's a good idea. Though I bet she's still asleep, you know her." The doctor half turns to me with a small smile. He offered a small wave before opening the door to a patients room. He did have a job to do. "I wish you the best Mrs. (L/N)."

"Thanks," I mutter as he leaves, not daring to say much else. My head falls forward, eyes trailing on the ground as I hesitantly head for my mother's room. I could feel my hand grasp my purse tightly, gripping the fabric too tightly as I walk.

20,000 dollars.

How was I supposed to come up with that much money? Getting that much in a year would be hard enough, but two weeks? I worked a full-time job that paid rather well for what it was, as well as doing odd jobs here and there when need be. I worked hard for the money I made and yet I could still barely afford to pay my bills.

There was no way I could pull this off on my own. Even if I worked from this hour on every day, all day, there wasn't a chance in hell I could scrape by with that much money. It was impossible. I could take out a loan, but the interest rates would kill me. Paying them would probably take away from the small pile of food money I had going for me.  But it had to be done. If I didn't...

My hand reaches out to push open my mother's hospital room door.

She lays on the bed, her skin as pale as snow and her hair as good as gone. My eyes flash between her too slim form to her closed (E/C) eyes. Her lips were cracked, even though I had brought her chapstick to use. Her hands look so fragile; she looked so fragile.

Yet, even in this state, she looked like an angel. She had always been the kindest person to anyone. Everyone loved my mom to the bone, she helped with everything. To a birthday party for a kid that wasn't her's to helping the homeless get clothes for the winter, my mom was your girl.

She did everything for everyone, and, truthfully, it makes me mad to see how little people have actually shown their appreciation in my mom's time of need.

As she lays here dying, her daughter struggling for money after she gave up her future. No one has offered either of us anything. No money, not even a get well soon card. Not a single person.

I watch my mother for a few moments. Taking in her shallow breathing and the way her body lays limp against the bed. She didn't make the normal, sleeping twitches or shift at all. It was like her body was too tired to even do that, I wouldn't blame it much.

She fights hard and even with the medicine, she was losing. Her body was slowly giving into the deadly cells floating around in her system. Now, I have to come up with more money than I ever could just so she can see the light of day again. The stakes were high. If I didn't, my mother wouldn't be around for much longer. This treatment was her lifesaver.

Before I even realized anything was wrong, I felt the warm tears slide down my cheeks. I sigh, looking off to the side of the room as my tears fell. I never cried anymore. Never in front of mother, (F/N), or even the doctor when he had told the worst of news. I had to be the strong one in all of this. I had to keep my emotions to myself and work through the day one step at a time. To show my dying mother tears would be to fail her.

I violently wipe at my eyes, trying desperately to get the tears to leave me. I didn't want this. I didn't want to give into the emotions boiling right below the surface. They willed me to turn my back on my mother and walk away. Tears were my weakness; emotion was a vigilante.
Suddenly I was shaken from my mind by a loud ringing noise. My head instantly shoots up to my mother, who was thankfully still sleeping soundly. Hurriedly I step out of the room. My hand leads the door to close almost silently before I press my back against the wall. The ringing was following me, the noise coming from my purse

I glance down to see my glowing phone screen I find myself cursing whoever had ruined my visit. Of course it had been ruined. When did things ever go well for me?

My hand rummages around for a few moments before I wrap my hand around my phone. The ringing continued annoyingly as I pulled the small device out of my purse. The screen was a bright blue, and as I glance over the display name I feel a frown stretch across my face.

(F/N) was calling me.