The Brain Transplant

c h a p t e r | o n e

"'Cause I'm happy, clap along if you feel like a room without a roof" - Pharrell Williams

-🧠-

"Hurry up, sweetheart." My father, Antonio Linnel, yelled from downstairs as I scrambled around my room, getting ready. "You don't want to be late to see her, darling."

My name is Daykota Linnel. I'm your average teen, really. I'm kind of a party animal. I'm a cheerleader and half the male population in my school drools over me. But, I've also got good grades and I'm great at mental math. I only have two really close best friends, the other people are just acquaintances. Or fake.

Some people dislike me because of my popularity, and the fact that even though guys drool over me, I hardly sleep with any of them. They say that I should take my opportunities because some aren't so fortunate, which sounds pathetic. I've maybe slept with, like, five guys in my entire life. Two of the times were the same guy. I also have people who hate me because of my father, who owns a large sum of money and a great business. I don't understand why my financial status matters, honestly. I try to stay as kind as possible, and I don't brag about my money. But people still calm me a 'rich snob' or a 'spoiled brat'.

But there's a side to me that people don't know. The side of me that is only part of my at home life. I miss a lot of school, at least two weeks out of every month. People think that I skip to go shopping, or to hang out with boys. But those are just rumors. I'm actually sick. Really sick. I suffer with brain cancer, also known as a brain tumor. I have a few different side effects that I have to deal with, but I manage. So those two weeks I stay home from school, I get treated by hired doctors.

If people knew that my father hired personal doctors to take care of me, the name calling would only get worse. My father only hired personal doctors because he doesn't want me to spend my life in a hospital away from him. He wants me to have the same experiences as every other teen.

"Day!" My father yelled from downstairs. I was gonna be late if I didn't hurry up.

"Sorry dad," I yelled back as I checked my outfit in the mirror. I was wearing a black and white striped, long sleeved shirt. Over that I wore my overalls and black converse. My makeup was natural, and my hair was too. I grabbed my phone and ran downstairs. Today I was going to see my favorite elderly woman in the retirement home. She was 93 years old and was the most lovely person I know.

As I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I was greeted by my father. He kissed my temple as I grabbed my car keys. My car was a 2018 black Mustang GT Premium, but a car is a car to me. I get in quickly and make my way over to the retirement home. I play the song Happy by Pharrell Williams and sang along with it. I know you've read those stories where the main character is a terrible singer and screams at the top of their lungs. That's not me. I'm in an acapella group and I take voice lessons, so my voice is great.

As I pull into the parking lot, I smile to myself. I love this place full of happy or grumpy old people. The grumpy ones make me smile just as much as the happy ones do. I walk up to the front desk and wait my turn to talk.

"Hello sweetie," the lady at the front desk said, smiling. Her name tag said 'Debra Willis'. "You here for Merida, Day?"

I came here for Merida so often that they knew my name and the time that I always come in at.

"Yes Debra, I am." I say with a smile and she tells me I can head on back to Merida's room. I come here every Thursday and I bring Merida a treat each time. Today I brought her some of my favorite chocolate made by the company Lindt Lindor. I brought the regular milk chocolate ones because Merida likes things simple. You also aren't supposed to bring edible items in for the people here, but Merida is a stubborn woman. She made a deal with the employees here that if I could bring her a treat every Thursday, she would stop listening to her rap music so loud. She's one crazy woman.