[ t o m o r r o w ] l.h

I

Disclaimer : The illness is made up and I used the medical term for something mundane like brain freeze because I don't want to come off as insensitive or romantcizing illness like cancer. I am sorry if the mention of terminal illness is triggering to you but I suggest you stop reading because it's a long running theme in the novel.

236 Days until

I've been sick since I can remember. One of my earliest memories is my older sister and I playing on the playground inside of the children's hospital while my parents got back my test results, (before that was a duck biting me but if I die that doesn't sound as cool when people read this.) When I was born, both of my lungs were not functioning properly so it was a pretty shit start, when I was nine I was diagnosed a rare disease called onychocryptosis, a disease in which lung failure, weak immune system and a plethora of other things I never bother to care about basically kills my body slowly - there isn't a cure. Mine is terminal. That diagnoses began the continous hospital trips and helicopter parenting. My life isn't all just hospital trips, waiting rooms and medication like most books portray terminally ill patients, before I was diagnosed we would go camping, vacations in the caribbean and actually leave the town for things other than extensive testing. Now we never leave, they don't like risking not having immediate help if anything happens - I think my sister got sick of not going anywhere. Its weird saying 'my sister'. Hailey, if you're reading this I am sorry to referring to you as that as if this will be read by more than three people.

"Val, you wanna run up to the store?" My fingers stop typing. My eyes glancing up from the screen to see my mom standing in the door frame to my bedroom, the same soft smile that she always wears on her lips.

"I might go to Gabis soon," I crack my fingers as I talk before I take a sip from the glass of ice water that has left a small puddle on the bedside table from the condensation dripping off the cup.

"Oh well I will just wait and I'll give you a ride," My eyes glance at the rain hitting against the window as my brows furrow in thought.

"I can walk. I need the exercise," I yawn as my arms stretch out behind my head. It is three in the afternoon and I am still in my pyjamas, it is wednesday therefore I don't feel obligated to be a functioning person.

"It's raining, you will get sick," She frowns in disapproval, the lines on her face are more visible when she frowns - she isn't even forty and the wrinkles on her face show nothing but stress; I feel partially responsible but Hailey is more of a pain than me.

"I'm always sick mum," The baby blue blankets are thrown off of my legs as I push the laptop off my lap, the little black line sitting there blinking, waiting for me to type again.

"Valerie..." She speaks scornfully. She hates it when I make light of my illness, "Remember to take a jacket please," The once golden locks fall in her face as she turns on her heels and walks from my room, her hair is a dull beige now.

I look at the screen contemplatively. I have a desire to write more than a paragraph of what I have called my 'biographairy' but if I don't leave the house, Gaby will be pretty pissed off and my parents will think I don't feel well. My dark brown locks are pulled up into a tight ponytail as I sit in front of my small vanity, fingers grazing over the few photobooth pictures I have of Hailey and I. She is the prettier sister. She looks like our mom. Emerald eyes that look like they should be in the wizard of oz, the most beautiful golden tresses that would make rapunzel ashamed, she is almost taller than our dad, and she somehow got the perfect ratio of skinny with boobs. I am the ugly sister without a doubt. I am not necessarily ugly but sitting next to her, I look like a gremlin. I am conventionally average. There is no discernable feature to me that makes me stick out, I'm not boring but I am not as spectacular looking as my sister or mother. Brown hair that won't grow past my chest no matter how hard I tried, dull greyish blue eyes, a few freckles sporadically thrown on my cheeks, a cardboard box body with a dash of chest and absolutely no height to me - a true definition of the runt.

I frown as I see the picture of Hailey at graduation, I haven't spoken to her in nearly a month. We are not close, sometimes I truly think she resents me for taking up most of mom and dad's attention throughout our childhood but we make it an effort to stay in touch; I genuinely think it's because she doesn't want to feel guilty when I die. Pushing up from the vanity, I shuffle over to my closet and throw on a pair of black leggings that certainly were not more than 15$ and most definitely have a hole somewhere on my ass and a red hoodie with a small ink stain on the bottom of it - it is laundry day.

[ first chapter of a new story. I hope you all enjoy this. ]