twenty eight | hope(less?)

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It's been a week since Dr. Weker determined my fate, and two hours since I moved into the hospital. Chemo started working, but not as fast as we need it to.

So here I am, sitting in this hospital bed as Zach and Dylan are at school and Mom and Dad are at work. Granted, I did have to push them all out of the door, but I need to time to wallow for a bit so I can stand strong when they come see me tonight.

In these two hours, I've almost completed a dose of chemo and have watched four episodes of Friends on Netflix. It might sound more time consuming than it actually is, but I've really just been sitting in this chair and willed the side effects to come and go before everyone comes to see me later.

It hasn't worked. I'm dead tired and can feel them beginning to kick in, but I already know by the time everyone gets here I'm going to be asleep or puking.

My phone keeps going on, signalling that people have been texting me, no doubt one of the four who will be here later, but I don't have the strength to move my arm to see.

Instead I've sat like a log on this chair, numbly watching this crew of six friends navigate life and it's gotten me thinking about how I navigate my life. Because I don't really.

Or maybe that's my depression talking. I guess I do some things. I volunteer with the kids, I made peace with my old friends, I used to go out every Thursday with Dylan, and I went on a spontaneous road trip with Zach.

All in all I guess I should be more grateful. At least I have good memories, some people don't. And I don't think I'd take one thing back from this life I've lived. Because for all of the shitty things I've had thrown my way, I've been gifted with good things that mean so much more to me.

With that in mind, I sluggishly move my body to sit up, turn off Netflix and open my Microsoft Word page. I'm not sure why I've decided to do this now, but I have a feeling things are going to get a lot worse, even if they do get better.

So with the help of my laptop microphone, I get to typing out four letters, one to each of the most important people in my life.

----

By the time Dylan and Zach show up to the hospital, I am hunched over throwing up everything in my system. Which at this point is water.

The feeling burns. My body can't throw up the cancer, but it can throw up every other God damn thing in my body. Or it can at least try to.

I hear the door open, but it's not until two sets of blissfully familiar hands gently rub my back, and their equally as blissful voices speak in their soothing tones in an attempt to calm me down enough for the spew to stop do I realize it's them.

It's about a minute before I stop dry heaving and the water Dylan passes me feels like liquid gold going down my throat. I take a few moments to savour the feeling and prepare myself for what I'm about to say to these two guys. My two best friends.

"How was school?" I croak out as I cuddle down further into my bed in an attempt to hide from this conversation. Sadly it doesn't work.

"Boring." Zach answers with a forced smirk as he regards me with sad eyes. "It's not the same without you there to getting annoyed with me."

"Hmm." I tiredly hum out with a smile as I look to Dylan.

"And you brother? How was school?" I ask with a teasing smile in an attempt to make him feel better.

"Fine." He answers with a shrug as he regards me with the same sad eyes as Zach. "You better not have watched Prison Break without me." He tries to tease, but it doesn't work.

"I wouldn't." I answer in honesty.

We're met with a tense silence and it's only a few moments before I decide to break it.

"So." I croak out as I attempt to sit up, which doesn't work so both boys come to help me, bringing a smile to my face.

"My day was more productive than it probably seems." I start as both boys look at me with a guarded expression, no doubt having no idea where I'm going with this.

"Your days are always productive, baby." Zach says in a gentle tone, no doubt trying to remind me that me battling cancer is as productive as any of them are, more so.

"Don't call my sister baby." Dylan snaps back, no doubt joking. But the tense atmosphere makes him seem serious.

"Anyways." I continue with a roll of my eyes. "I wrote letters."

My words make both boys tense, Zach more so, no doubt because of his mother. And I know what they're expecting, even though it's nothing like they're thinking.

"It's not what you think." I quickly cut in, watching both of them somewhat relax. Somewhat. "It's for while I'm in here, not for when I-"

I'm cut of with a cough from both boys, making me realize my mistake and sheepishly look down at my hands. I'm still a work in progress, which is why I have these letters.

"Not for if I go." I correct as I watch their expressions turn from tense to confused.

"What do you mean?" Zach asks, with his guard still up.

"Well as you can tell I'm still a work in progress, that slip up being exhibit A." I explain as I watch both of them slowly nod as they become more confused, Dylan less so thanks to our twin minds.

"So while I'm in here, even if physically I get better it's going to take time. And mentally we all know I've had doubts, and me being in here is probably going to make it worse. It always gets worse before it gets better, and though I'm not sure how much worse it could get I don't want you guys too hurt in the process."

"Leena-" Dylan tries to interrupt, no doubt having guessed what I'm getting at.

"These letters aren't for when I'm gone, but for when I'm at my lowest point." I continue, disregarding whatever he has to say. "Whenever you've lost any hope the letter will remind you of the good. Or at least I hope they will. The idea is for them to make you guys feel better. If that's by reading it, burning it, throwing it in my face, just do what you have to do.

"And I know I've said this before but if either of you ever need to leave, I want you to leave." I finish with a fierce stare, or as fierce as I can be right now.

"What made you want to do this?" Zach mumbles out, probably not knowing what else to say.

"Hospitals are daunting." I explain clearly. "I might become daunting too."

"I've printed them off and have had them put in the mail by a friendly nurse." I say. "I'm sorry if this is a burden to you guys, but there's things in there I needed to get out. And if you hate me for it then just burn them, okay?" I finish with such vulnerability that I almost cry.

"We could never hate you." Dylan coo's as a tear finally falls. "If this helped you to feel better, then I feel better."

Dylan's confession brings a relieved sigh out of me, and I finally feel strong enough to face Zach. I see him looking completely lost, and devastatingly sad but his words soothe me.

"This is about you, more than it's about us." Zach finally speaks suddenly looking determined. "And whatever you need, you do."

----

A/N helllllllllooo readers! Thanks for sticking with me! I know updates have been taking a little while, but I've been working full time and haven't found the time to write. My goal is to finish this book before school starts back up again (which for me is September 4th.) so fingers crossed!!

Now I wanna thank y'all for having this book in the rankings, it makes me so happy and proud that you guys seem to be enjoying the story!! This book will have around 35 chapters so we are almost at the finish line folks.

If you want to continue reading more of my stories (which I hope you do.). Check out 'Twelve Steps to Love' live on my profile now. The updates won't be as consistent as this book until I have it completed, and then my focus will go to TSTL and another book I have in the works!

Will Leena get better? Will Zach stick around? Let me know what you think!


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