Life After Yesterday

Chapter 1

-Sang Sorenson-

I've held my breath in a pool before, this isn't the same.

This was like having a gun to my head and being told not to let my heart beat. I'm human... of course it'll beat.

"I'm sorry, Sang. The cancer has just progressed too much, I'm afraid the intensive chemotherapy along with the treatment won't work. I'm going to try and set you up with a multidisciplinary team, they're going to help you wi-"

I reared my head away from Dr Stainton's determined face, and peered out the shutter windows as he continued to ramble about exhausted possibilities.

This was it; I was officially a dead girl in a breathing body. All what was left to do now was to brood over the tragic aftermath that my death would embue on my family.

He kept going on and on about how it was impossible for a stage four cancer patient to recover with the treatment I was doing, and it was beginning to irritate me.

I get it.

I was going to die; but he was just rubbing it in.

"Okay, okay. Just stop. I get it. I don't need to continue on with the treatment. Give it to someone who actually stands a chance," I mumbled, looking at him with annoyance, and he pursed his lips, abstaining from saying something else.

"I apologise for my insensitivity, but you must know that you can still receive a bone marrow-or a stem cell transplant. There's a new drug trial that's beginning in a couple months that could quite possibly heal you. But what I need from you is to go tell your parents about what's happening to you so that I can test them to see if they match," He pushed himself off his chair and pulled out a bunch of crinkled pamphlets, each stating something different about the new drug trial. "Tell your parents, please."

He bent down next to my chair and placed the pamphlets in my hands. "Sang, there is a kind of honesty that is selfless and a kind that is selfish. I can tell you now that it's going to hurt your parents when they find out that they could've helped you."

"Look, they've got enough to worry about, and I won't burden them with something like this. I suggest you keep your stupid pamphlets and give it to someone who actually stands a chance." I pushed it back into his hands and yanked my school bag off the floor.

"You do stand a chance," He whispered. I clenched my jaw as I removed my hand off the door handle. Tossing a tired glance off my shoulder, I met his icy eyes, "Oh give it a rest, Dr Stainton. You and I both know that by the time I'll match with someone or by the time that new drug trial begins, I'll be dead."

"San-" I ignored him and disappeared down the hospital halls with tears threatening to spill down my creamy cheeks.

I stopped and released a shaky breath as my hands curled around the straps of my bag. I fisted it between my hands as I enter the ER.

Screams and cries suddenly surrounded me, and I ducked my head as I manoeuvred myself through the mazes of gurneys carrying unconscious burned victims.

I gasped when a hand tightly clamped around mine, and I looked down at an old woman whose arms were covered in third-degree burn wounds.

"P-please help me," She moaned in pain, tugging on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. My eyes frantically searched for a nurse.

"Excuse me! She needs help!" I shout, and a male nurse looks up from stacks of papers, his eyes suddenly widening in shock.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay." I tell her, and she squeezes my hands just before a group of nurses and doctors quickly rush towards her. I go to move around them, but she grasps my hand again with both her hands, "M-my name is Nora, thank you so much."