Broken (A 1D Fanfic)

Chapter 1

A/N: THIS IS EMMA. JUST A WARNING FOR ALL YA'LL READERS OUT THERE... THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN RE-WRITTEN. THE VERSION YOU ARE VIEWING RIGHT NOW HAS BEEN REWRITTEN, EDITED AND CHANGED TO EXPLAIN THE STORY A WEE BIT BETTER. SO... HERE WE GO :D 

A deep sigh escaped my mouth as I looked at myself in the mirror. No hair, no social life, but still a tumor. Two months ago I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. My head was shaved for surgeries. 

 My social life? Down the drain. When I told my friends, they laughed at me. Some said I was lying to get attention. Others claimed I was contagious and called me rude names. Everyone sort of gave up on me. The only person who stayed with my was my family. My mom, aunt and uncle and my cousins.

 I had one friend. That's all. Poppy Clearson was roomed next door to my hospital room. She suffered from severe cholestrial problems, those of which are hard to explain. She was a year younger than me, only being sixteen and hospitalized for half a year. 

She had luscious dark brown hair that fell past her shoulders. I missed my dark brown hair so much, I felt like it made me a completely different person. I wasn't just Alanna anymore. I was that girl who was dying from a brain tumor. We shared the eye colour though. We both had chocolate brown eyes, although mine had a rim of gold around the pupil. 

A buzzing snapped me out of my daze. I waltzed towards my bed and found my phone, indicating I had one new message. I clicked view and skimmed through the words.

It was from Poppy.

'Hey girlie, vas happenin'?' Oh, did I forget to mention that Poppy loved this British/Irish boy band named One Direction? Well, she does. 

I laughed at the stolen catchphrase. 'Just about to go hunt down some hashbrowns and bacon. You?'

'On an IV again. Wanna come over?' Poppy asked, making my phone buzz in my hands.

'Can't, mum's here.' I replied, looking up as my mom wandered into the room.

Poppy didn't reply after that, knowing it was pointless. "Hey, mum." I mumbled, taking a seat on my bed.

"Good morning. How're you feeling?" She asked. That's mom for you, always constantly worrying about my health. I understood in these circumstances, but when I got the common cold a few years ago, she flipped. It's quite a sight, really.

"Good, actually. A little tired, but that's about it." She nodded as a look of thought appeared on her features. "So, what're you thinking about?"

She paused for a moment. "What would you like for your birthday next week?" A small smile made its way to my lips.

Another birthday, another year. Two and a half months ago, I wasn't sure that I'd be able to turn seventeen. That is, until a week ago my nurse told me I was getting better.  

I could do with hair, no tumor and one of the only band's music I will listen to...

"A wig for my hideous bald head, no tumor and One Direction." I listed.

"Alanna, you're head isn't ugly. You're beautiful, you should know that. That's what--" I cut her off before she could finish,

"Yeah, yeah. That's what makes you beautiul." I murmured. She just sighed in response.

After a long pause, she spoke once again. "I'll try, but I can't promise you a band." I nodded.

"I know, mum. You'll try your best. I just wish I didn't have to spend my seventeenth birthday in the hospital." I groaned.

To be honest, I hated hospitals. At least my hospital had entertainment for patients like me. They had a football (soccer) field, a games room and a volleyball court. I hardly spent any time in any of those places, but at least I knew they were there if I got bored.

With that, my mum went to go find me food and I settled into my bed with a book.