To Stay in Love

Not Dead Yet

A white room, beeping monitors, the sharp smell of disinfectant. Tubes filled with clear fluid taped to my arms. The bright light from the fluorescent bulbs created colors in my eyes. The pacing blur of nurses and the sound of my own shallow pounded in my ears as I slipped in and out of consciousness.

"Willow, time to go home sweetie."

I forced my eyes opened. My lids felt heavy as if they were covered in honey.

"Everything's going to be okay honey."

That's what I've heard for the past six years. And everything was far from okay. I was first diagnosed with ALL cancer when I was eleven. I know what you all think. You probably pity me or look at me as if I'm some abandoned puppy with no home. But I don't need anyone's pity. I won't even live to be eighteen. I'll miss out on all the dances and parties, but actually I didn't care that much. I guess being so close to death for as long as I could remember made me kinda I don't know, kind of used to the feeling? Anyways I didn't have anything to lose. I isolated myself from anyone who tried to be friendly with me. I can't afford to mess up anyone's life. I don't want to be the bomb. Sure the doctors are trying to find a cure and do test runs, but so far none of them has worked on me. My mom walked me to her minty green van. I opened the door and plopped onto the plush seats. The car smelled like mom, cozy with a whiff of vanilla soap. I opened the window, feeling the cool breeze. Th wind brushed through strands of my hair as I drummed my fingers on the side door. The van stopped at a cream colored house with a modest black tiled roof and a mahogany door. My home. I unlocked the door and went straight to my room, locking the door behind me. Suddenly feeling tired, I threw myself into the pile of white sheets. I stared at my room. The creamy white walls were covered with posters of Maroon 5 and pale yellow sticky notes. The notes were scrawled with memos of the name of my favorite cafe, mom's perfume, and other little things. I took out my phone and scrolled through my contacts, oh right I didn't have friends. A lot of people were weirded out by my oxygen tubes, so at least I didn't have to worry about distancing myself from them. I got up and walked towards the window and opened the lime green curtains. In the window next door there was a guy talking to his dad. For a second I gazed at him. He was gorgeous. His eyes were the color of rich milk chocolate. His hair was messy and brown, his face tanned and sculpted. Then suddenly, he looked my way and we locked eyes for a split second. He smiled. I whipped my head around and shut the curtains. Ugh, what the heck are you doing Willow. A few minutes later, someone cleared their throat.

"Hello? Mysterious cute girl next door? I know you're there."

I whisked the curtains opened and glared.

"Do you know me?" I questioned.

"No. I don't think so. I just moved in."

"Well I don't talk to strangers. Bye." I said.

" I'm Blake. Blake Crosby." He sat on the window ledge and dangled his feet out the window.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Now I'm not a stranger." He grinned.

"Yea ok." I replied and closed the curtains.

My heart was beating a little too fast for my liking

"What the heck did I get myself into?"