Dreams

Chapter 1

                                                Chapter One

 My name is Tuesday. I bought this journal six months ago and haven't touched it until today, I wish I knew what has been going through my mind these past six months but I don't. I, Tuesday Grace Roth, have been changed, and the person I once was is dead.

  I was dying, and when you're dying most of the time you'll give anything to stay alive. If you were dying of an unknown terminal illness, you'd have said yes to giving up the next six months to not die before your mother. When I was admitted to Albatross Pediatric Hospital's ICU, they had no idea what was wrong with me, I was a mystery to them. Everyone looked at me like I was some sort of mythical creature, like I wasn't supposed to exist. Every waking hour I was in that hospital we were waiting for test results, or for a nurse to come in and take a sample to see if I had some evolved form of another disease. The questions they asked were the least of my worries, it kept me busy. Having busy work when you can't leave the hospital bed because you have too many wires and tubes attached to you, is like having a cold glass of water when it's one hundred and four degrees outside, and you decided it was a nice day to go for a run.

 If you think about it we're all born to die, just some before others. These thoughts are what would run through my brain every day. I asked the nurses to kill me, asked for them to end all of the testing, and bloodwork and constant flow of drugs running through my veins. They of course reassured me with the false hope that they would fix it all, found out what was wrong with me, and make everything better. Of course I didn't listen, I just tuned out their constant flow of happy, and replaced it with my own sadistic thoughts.  My mother paced the floor as she waited for results that were almost always negative, there were no answers as to why I was the way I am. My father always said that they only replaced the carpet in our home with hardwood because my mother had worn it down from all of her constant nervous pacing. When I was smaller she was always doing things for me and my sister. She did our hair every day before school, bought us what we needed for a lemonade stand, and took us on long walks down the beach no matter the weather.

  My father married my mother when they were both 19 years old, stupid, young, and madly in love with each other. They met at an indie rock concert when she still struggled with acne, and he was struggling to pay rent. She tripped and fell, he caught her, they looked into each other's eyes and 9 months later my sister and I were born. Tuesday Grace and Phoenix Graham Roth. Out of all the things in the world, my father's signed Beatle's album, my mother's Diamond earrings she bought after 3 years of struggling to buy gas, we were, and still are, their pride and joy. I guess you could say we led a privileged life, we were a two paycheck family that lived in a good neighborhood and had food on the table. Our parents danced to records in the living room while Phoenix and I sketched and sang along to whatever song was playing, I never worried about them splitting up simply because they were happy.

  When I was thirteen I went on my first date, had my first heartbreak, and never got sick. When I was fourteen I won a national award for my artwork, and accepted it alongside my sister. When I was sixteen, I got my first car, had a stable relationship with my boyfriend Luke, and was going to be a junior in high school. Somehow, here I was at seventeen in the hospital with a mystery disease and no hope for my future. Luke visited me every day and when I woke up in the hospital after my latest blackout, he was sleeping beside me. Phoenix tells me what's going on in her normal life as the sister of the girl with the mystery illness, she doesn't sleep unless she takes medicine and nowadays that rarely happens. I tell her how much I miss everyone and to send my love, but that doesn't mean anything anymore, the only thing that matters is when you're dead. For anyone to talk to me they have to forcefully remove my headphones that are constantly blasting my 'we all get sad sometimes' playlist on Spotify, it consists of songs that will remind me of my immaculate fate that is just around the corner.

  They wouldn't admit it but they knew I was dying, my face became sallow, and my body became frail. I barely ate and soon it seemed like my body was just giving up on me. My visitors slowly narrowed down to my family and Luke, who now only visited once, maybe twice a week, but every time he visited he brought me a sunflower. Sunflowers gave me a spark of happiness that is hard to find when you are terminally ill, just awaiting to sleep and never wake up. The day Elizabeth Maren walked into my life is a day I will never forget, she entered my hospital room like she was walking the red carpet, wearing red high heels and a mini dress that my mother would say barely qualified as a shirt. I saw her enter only because she roused me out of sleep, "please knock before you enter, you interrupted my progression towards eminent death." I groaned as I turned over to face the wall. She walked over to the table filled with wilting flowers and "get well soon" balloons. "It's a shame how ironic these balloon are since you know you're going to die." She said with a cold tone that most people associate with the preachers at funerals, and the fathers who wait in line with their daughters at One Direction concerts. My back was stiff when I sat up, I propped a pillow behind me so I could stay  sitting up only because I was slightly intrigued with her sadistic humor. "Should I introduce myself or do you already know my name as well as the fate my mystery illness will bring me?" Crossing my arms over my chest, I look at her with a dead stare followed by a smirk. "Elizabeth Maren, and you shouldn't assume my dear, it's bad for your ego. Anyways, you shouldn't be so sadistic honey because I've found you a way out of this little medical disaster."

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  Elizabeth Maren sat down on my hospital bed with her caramel latte clutched in her perfectly manicured hand and took a long sip before saying anything else. "Meredith honey we both know you're in pretty bad shape and even though you won't admit it, you actually want to live." I took a deep sigh and replied without looking her directly in the eye. "You know you'd try anything if they told you your mother would outlive you" I scanned over my unpainted fingernails as I hear her take another sip of liquefied sugar. "I wish you wouldn't be so stubborn with me, I'm honestly trying to help you here, and I'd appreciate if you would listen to what I have to say." she takes another long and drawn out sip of coffee flavored syrup. "I'm a part of a corporation known as DreamCore, we are an underground branch of elite medical professionals to help kids like you get out of these messes they've put themselves into without knowing it. But in order to help you, first we of course need you to give us your own approval." She pulled out her phone and pretended to be busy while I stayed silent. "How can you help?"