Zayn quits 1D.
Harry cries.
The fandom dies.
Louis pretends he's there.
Liam's reserves his spots.
Niall looks lost.
And parents take pleasure in our torture.
~~
When I was only 10 (2010), I fell in love with the band named One Direction. I love them all, but I've always been a Harry girl. That year was the first time I had even heard of Breast Cancer. I didn't know what it was, all I knew was I had it. That December, on my birthday, I was told that they had found it too late, that it had already developed into stage 3. What did I do? I cried for hours and yelled at my mom for daring to cry. I thought that my life was as they made it out to me; over. In the beginning, I refused any kind of treatments, but after a while I realized they could at least slow the cancer down. My grandma died of the same cancer 5 months after I was diagnosed and my mom had developed stage 1 a week her mother passed away. My mom was easily "curable" since it was so early on, but I went through chemo and surgery just to remove the dumb tumor. About 2 months later, I showed a remarkable recovery and the tumor was gone. I lived in the hospital for about 5 months of my life that year. They told us it may or may not come back.