Chapter 1
The Beginning
The looks are what slowly ate at me. Not the names or the pointing fingers. The looks I got passing through the halls of the freshman class. Why do they look so disgusted? It wasn't like I had two heads or a few extra fingers. It wasn't like I had some gross sickness that I could spread. I’m normal; I don’t know how it happened. I was healthy all my life, and finally when I start feeling like I actually fit in somewhere, I find out that my life might not ever be the same again. Ever since that one morning, September 16, when I peered in the mirror and noticed it. Why me? Why right now, so early in age? It still doesn't make sense to me.
I could smell my mom’s coffee sneaking through my door crack, filling my room and waking me. My morning routine’s simple: get up, take a shower, watch some tv, eat breakfast, then have my mom drive me to school. I get out of my bed, hit my alarm clock so it stops buzzing, and head to my bathroom. I turn on my shower and start to take off my clothes and something catches my eye in my reflection. Why does life have to be so difficult? It’s like when I’m happy, life does anything it can to make it terrible again. Like life is that mean bully, sitting, waiting for them and their friends to stroll down the hall, cheerful and laughing, just to push them down, bringing that person back down again, and again, and again. My face looked ordinary, maybe a little paler than usual, but my skin didn't. I first spotted one bruise, then a few more. Then too much to count. I started panicking and questions were flying through my brain. What’s happening to me? Is this some practical joke the seniors thought would be funny? I hastily paced into the kitchen and observed my mom making my lunch. She glanced up at me and questioned me why I looked like I just saw a ghost. I showed her all the bruising, and she started looking as if she saw the ghost too. She got her keys off the supper table and told me to get in the car. She never once in that car ride mentioned where we were going, but I knew it wasn't school. That morning changed my life forever, and I didn’t even realize it. When life came up to me and shoved me down. Leaving me on the floor, walking away, laughing. And no matter how hard I tried, it was impossible to get up.

My mom slowly parked the car, then opened my door for me, and we walked in the doctor’s together. I was shaking, and I knew she could tell because she squeezed my hand and looked at me. My mom was graceful that morning, but inside I knew she knew nothing good was ahead. Moms are always right. "Violet?" I looked over and saw the nurse standing there waiting for me. I stood up and my mom followed me to the room.

The whole time the doctor was speaking to me is a blur. So was when the doctor took spit swabs, checked my pulse, and looked at my bruises. He told mom he would have to run the tests and it would take about two days. How does he expect me to wait that long? What am I going to do during those two days? Pretend like i’m fine and that my life might not change forever? I might be 14 and a normal crazy teenager, but i’m not delusional, nor am I stupid. Am I supposed to go to school and try to hide the bruises on my body? Not tell my best friends who have been here for me through thick and thin because I don't even know myself what's wrong with me? My mom grabs my hand, thanks the doctor, and walks me out of the room. I remember never feeling more exhausted in my life, just wanting to collapse in my moms arms, and try to forget everything that happened this morning. Wanting to be numb to all the feelings. We got in the car, and my mom just sat there for a minute or two. I didn't do anything either; I just sat there with her. Then she turned, facing me, and took her warm hands and wrapped them around my face. "Whatever happens, i’m here for you, and we’ll get through it together," she said. I saw her face turn red and a tear dropped from her face, trying to stay strong for me.

The two days passed slowly. Walking through the halls, people staring at me. Wondering why I looked so sad, why I had bruises on my arms. I didn't tell my friends at that time either; I mostly avoided talking to them. They had no clue, which I don’t blame them. I’m usually quiet, so there wasn’t a big difference. It was Thursday, and I went to the doctor’s on Tuesday. I remember waiting in my bed, scared of the hearing the ring of the phone. 30 minutes passed of just sitting there, trying not to listen to the thoughts in my head telling me all the possibilities of what could be wrong with me. I almost had to tie my hands behind my back to so I couldn’t go online and look up why I have random bruising and extreme fatigue. Then I heard it ring. I ran to my mom, who was holding the phone in the hand listening. I sat there, trying to tell what he was saying by reading my mom’s vacant emotions. Impossible, but then I saw her starting to cry, hard. I've only seen her cry once, which was when my dad left. She then hung up the phone and hugged me. I started asking her questions. "What did he say Mom?" and "Why are you crying?". Then I heard her say something, it was so quiet I could barely hear her. That moment, my life changed. Who thought that it could take a turn in about five seconds? "Violet, you have leukemia."