Chapter One
My parents could name me after a powerful and immortal goddess, but they couldn’t use a name to stop fate.
Artemis.
Cancer.
It has been two years.
I discreetly adjusted the beanie that hid the world from who I really was, then slid into a seat in the back and toyed with some eraser sheddings as I waited for the teacher to come. Watched how people formed little clusters around me, the two groups of girls in the top and bottom right corners, the two groups of boys in the top and bottom left. Listened to their indistinct chattering that made conversations normal people had everyday.
All the students said hello or good morning to me as they skirted around my desk, robotic movements again and again. A bunch of eighth grade humans saying the same thing because they were taught to be kind to the ones in need, the disabled, and the unfortunate people with special needs. I didn’t realize I belonged in one of those categories until the end of seventh grade.
The only two exceptions were Mallory and Zara. We’ve been a trio since the summer of second grade, when we found out we each lived in the same block and that we were all in the same grade.
They came in together, as always, both dumping their backpacks on the ground and scooting into seats next to me.
“...remember that part when the purple elephant started talking?” Mallory was saying.
“Yeah! It was so funny!” Zara.
“I know, right? I think I might have spat out my popcorn!” Mallory.
An eruption of laughter.
It seemed like forever before they turned to me.
“Hi!” they greeted cheerfully together. I smiled tightly. Waited.
“We were just talking about…” Mallory looked at Zara, who looked at me sympathetically.
“...about the movie we watched yesterday. You know that new one with the tiny people and an elephant?” Zara finished matter-of-factly.
I knew that. Of course I did; they’d asked me a week ago if I wanted to go with them. I said no, I had an appointment. Stupid cancer, stupid appointments.
“You okay?” Mallory nudged me twice and I blinked. “You look upset.”
“Yeah,” I croaked. “I’m fine.”

Chapter Two
I threw my backpack against the wall, not caring that it was already pretty banged up, not caring about the already cracked wall. I wasn’t in the mood to “be a good person” and I definitely wasn’t in the mood to play nice with nonliving objects.
Instead, I went over to the kitchen to get a cookie. I was midway into putting it in my mouth when I thought better. I’d be wasting precious ingredients. I was just going to throw it all up later, anyway. I sniffed and put the cookie back into the box.
I made my way up the stairs, along with my holey backpack at my heels.
Life isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair.
I sat on my fluffy pink chair.
Life's NOT fair. Life's NOT fair.
Sighing, I pushed my angry thoughts away, trying to focus on algebra. For once, math actually took time. It was all factoring. Numbers and letters everywhere. I scanned the desk, looking for something that resembled a calculator, or an extra piece of binder paper that would assist me. Instead, my eyes landed on a tiny pink sheet of paper. Just barely noticeable beneath the layers of math, history, and more math, all heaped together ungraciously. I reached for it clumsily, papers flying everywhere.
My writing was messier three years ago. I’d scrawled it quickly in a blue pen, no doubt with that Cinderella one.
Year Goal: convince mom and dad to get a cat.
Life Goal: become a heroine and be famous.
I grimaced, my eyes skimming the meaningless words.
Get a cat.
When we discovered I was a cancerous child, they immediately bought me Pumpkin.
Become a heroine and be famous.
Yeah right. Definitely going to happen in a month or year...or however long I even had.
I was so innocent, so young, so naive. So healthy I thought I had a whole lifetime to achieve these goals. Apparently I thought wrong.
I got up with a start and crumpled the paper. Hesitated. Then, huffing, I made my way across the laundry that littered the floor, and to my bunk. I slid my hand under the pillow and let the paper rest in peace.
Its life wasn’t ending until mine did.

Chapter Three
“ARTEMIS! I’M LEAVING AND SO IS PUMPKIN!”
Tullia.
A stomp. A screech. Another impatient shout.
“Okay, okay I’m coming. Chill.”
Really, though, it was Sunday, and I would rather spend it in bed than babysitting and catsitting. At seven in the morning.
I secured my beanie in place and zipped up my jacket, eyes studying my surroundings.
The autumn wind was billowing, rattling the leaves off skeletal trees with each breath it took. The street ahead of me was red. Not blood red. No, it was a mellow, beautiful crimson red, mangled with bold orange and dusty yellow. Leaves and leaves cartwheeled in the frosty air, landing among its friends. A gray tent of clouds was pitched over our sleepy town, shielding us from the wrath of the sun. Only one particularly rebellious ray was able to penetrate through. Now, it was colliding against the water from Ms. Fink’s sprinkler. Glorious gold mingled with the calm, sincere droplets.
I tugged my eyes away from the rainbow beads that were already forming and allowed Tullie to whisk me away. I watched her from my position behind. From her woven hair, braided into two delicate strands, to her polka-dotted rain boots stomping against concrete and dust, even though there wasn’t a puddle in sight. Then, there was the poor cat she was leading with a leash.
A leash.
We made a U-turn and waited for some guy to bicycle past us. He stared at the cat in the leash for the briefest second before peeling his eyes away. I stifled a sigh as we trudged up the driveway.
“Girls, hop in the car--we’re going to the aquarium!” Dad greeted us.
I wanted to mention that I really was too old for aquariums, and that Tullie wasn’t interested in most sea animals, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead, he shared a look with Mom and I saw the hidden message behind those words.
Every family trip could be our last together.
I sat up straighter and gave them both a happy smile.
“The aquarium sounds great, guys.”
Two relieved sighs. No.
Make that three.
~~~
The van finally burped a cloud of exhaust before screeching to a stop in one of the parking spaces.
At the front door, a lady with blue hair and a smile plastered onto her face was handing out free, smiley faced fish bookmarks. I took mine with sympathy. It seemed like she needed one herself. Maybe with a cup of coffee.
I studied the otters and penguins. Fish with bucked teeth, fish with fat lips. At some point, I thankfully took a lollipop Mom gave me. It was just another normal Sunday.
Until an explosion of pain hit me, colliding into me like waves against a shore.
Until I collapsed against Tullia, the two of us tumbling down like Dominoes.
Until my vision turned black as I slipped away from consciousness.

Chapter Four

“Water. She’ll want water when...if she wakes up.”
“Yes. Just water, no ice. Thank you.”
The sound of footsteps faded as the nurse left.
Both voices I woke to had slight tremors in them, laced with worry and terror. I shifted, flexing my foot, deciding that it wouldn’t be fair if I made my poor parents wait any longer.
The fluorescent lights were blinding streaks, like lightning against an indigo sky. I grimaced, and at the sound, both Mom and Dad turned, rushing to my bed.
“Artemis, are you okay?”
“Honey, do you want water?”
“A cookie?”
“Nurse! We-”
“Are you read-”
“One question at a time please,” I interrupted, holding up a hand.
Mom cried with joy, almost too dramatically, just as the nurse came back with a plastic cup of water (no ice), and a clean sheet. She handed me the water, and though it tasted like hospital sink, I drank it eagerly, relieving my parched lips.
“How long was I out? And yes, I’d like a cookie...preferably shortbread.” I looked at the nurse and she nodded solemnly, rushing out again.
“Two days,” Mom replied, squeezing my hand.
“We were afraid we’d lose you...your fever was so high and it wouldn’t go down,” Dad chimed in.
“Did my cancer cause it?” I murmured. A nod. “Where’s Tullie? Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. Gran’s taking care of her at home.”
Interminable silence, dragging. I took a deep breath. I had to tell them now.
“Mom, Dad, I just wanted to say that if I ever leave, I love you. Both of you. I’m so grateful, and I just wanted you guys to know that sometimes, I don’t mean to be snappy or anything, okay? I-”
“Don’t,” Mom whispered, blinking back fast tears. “Don’t say that. The doctor said you still had time--lots of it.” But she broke down anyway, sobbing hysterically, tears spilling out uncontrollably. I gaped as Dad put a hand on her shoulder. She was hiding something.
“Ayda,” Dad said firmly. “You need to tell the truth,” he ordered, talking over her protests. “You need to let her know exactly what the doctor said.”
“What did she say?” I asked, knowing in my heart that I didn’t want to find out.
“Ayda,” prompted Dad.
Mom hiccuped, wiping tears and not caring that she’d left a trail of snot running down her sleeve.
“Y-you have th-th-three months at m-most,” she stuttered, as if she couldn’t believe it herself.
“Oh.” I stared at a dark spot on the wall. “And?” And was I going to die in my sleep, while watching a movie, or at school in front of everybody?
“And nothing. That’s all,” Dad grimly finished.
The nurse appeared again, knocking before entering.
“Shortbread cookie!” She announced cheerfully.
Suddenly, I felt self conscious. About my clothes, about my exposed head.
“Hat,” I whispered to Dad urgently.
He nodded, understanding, and swiftly placed the purple thing on me.
“Do you think can we go home now?” I hoped.
“I’ll check with Dr. Leigh.”
“Thanks.”
It felt like I was in Heaven as I bit into the buttery sweet cookie.
~~~
Apparently, Dr. Leigh said yes, but I had to be monitored constantly. The nurse did a three finger wave as we walked past, and I finally felt decent in regular jeans and a sweatshirt, instead  of a pastel white hospital gown that made me turn baboon’s butt red every time I breathed.
The car groaned as Dad stepped on the brakes, stopping in front of the house. Gran’s Toyota was already there, and the front door was propped open.
“Tullie!” I yelled, seeing her shadow. I hopped off and ran into her arms. The Barbie she clutched in her hand collided with my back, but I felt no pain. Being in her arms was enough to make everything disappear.
“Are you okay?” I asked, cupping her face in my hands. She nodded enthusiastically, braids bouncing.
“Gran!” Her face was radiant as I galloped towards her, embracing her. Her silvery hair flashed as it caught the sun, and her cheeks dimpled.
Soon the whole family was in the house, crowding around, smiling, joking, hugging. It was a perfect moment, a happy bubble of peace.
I wasn’t a cancerous girl, dying of a tumor.
I wasn’t the shy girl who’d hid herself inside a shell.
I wasn’t the girl that would break hearts in three months.

Chapter Five (one month later)

Autumn froze into a winter picture. The naked trees stood proudly, immune to the cold. Harsh winds raged and gentle breezes calmed them. White powder drizzled down, soon a blanket covering the earth.
I was reading a book for the project due next Tuesday, taking down notes as I devoured the words, occasionally sipping some hot chocolate. It was a perfect day until--
“Artemis!” someone said. I groaned inwardly.
Tullie.
“Can we go outside and play for just a little while?” she asked, blue eyes peeking out from under thick lashes.
“Um…” I wasn’t so sure. I was comfortable in my Hello Kitty onesie and fleece socks. The fireplace only made the lazy feeling worse. No. I didn’t want to go out.
“Please, please, please?”
“Fine. Only twenty minutes--I have finish reading,” I finally caved.
“Yay!” She slid into her parka and tugged on wool gloves. I followed.
We started working on a snowman, and eventually, she abandoned her job as snow deliverer and went off somewhere. I shrugged. She wouldn’t go anywhere. She was probably just getting Barbie and Ken, or a carrot for the snowman. Or just hiding and trying to give me a heart attack.
A sudden flash of color caught my attention as I carefully tied the scarf around Frosty (the snowman). I looked up.
Tullia was making a snow angel. In the middle of the road.
The middle of the road.
My eyes widened in panic and I let my instincts kick in.
“TULLIA!” I roared, kicking over Frosty in my haste. I didn’t look back. “GET OFF OF THE ROAD YOU’LL GET KILLED!” I screamed as I tripped over a heap of snow.
A distant rumbling sound grew steadily louder. At the far end of the street was a red monster truck, extra tall, snow-proof wheels and all. Its headlights glared at me, reflecting on Tullia, who was still unaware of the danger.
“TULLIE!”
The truck roared on. The driver didn’t seem to notice me or Tullie. It just kept coming. I yelled and screamed and cursed from my position at the edge of the road, but it was no use. Tullia was humming, and her earmuffs were making her oblivious to my warning. The driver couldn’t see us from his position up the truck, and by every second, it seemed as if he was gaining speed.
My sister was going to get run over.
I paused for barely a second, blood pulsing in my veins. Then, bracing myself one last time, I hurtled out onto the blacktop and grabbed Tullie, throwing her onto the side with all the energy I had in me. Prayed to God that she would be safe, and my family would be all right. Then, I closed my eyes, and let my body sink into the comfort of the snow.
A bird’s chirp.
A tire’s screech.
A girl’s scream.
A final sigh of relief.

Epilogue

“Show me my family.” I projected my voice so that the hScreen would understand. A moment later, a blue halo sign appeared. I recognized it as the signature Heaven loading sign. My guide, Leyla, had explained everything to me, and had given me a tour just an hour ago. Heaven had everything, from malls for all, to pet shops, restaurants, cafes, and candy shops. I felt glad that I hadn’t decided to steal that tub of nail polish from the Hello Kitty store when I was five.
“Request confirmed,” the robotic female voice answered in response. The halo and blank space was supplanted by a colorful image of my family. Except it wasn’t that colorful.
They were in black silk, black suits, gray felt. Even Tullia was there. Mom and Dad were crying over something inside a jet-black coffin. I zoomed in, squinting at the screen.
The body inside the coffin belonged to me.
My worn, purple beanie, was set atop my head. They must have washed it, because there was no trace of blood or dirt. I was dressed in my favorite outfit, a pair of jeans and a butter yellow T-shirt, lavender jacket tied around my waist. My eyes were open, dull green staring up at the clear glass above.
I shivered, holding my jacket closer to me.
“Miss, are you alright? You seem a bit pale. Would you like some refreshments?”
I turned around quickly to see Leyla standing behind me, readable concern in her dusty eyes.
“Um...I’ll just take the lemonade, I guess. If you don’t mind...can I have a moment?” I pleaded. She dipped her head.
“Of course, miss.”
I returned my attention back to the screen, focusing on two figures I hadn’t noticed. One with a jumble of gingery red curls, the other with a waterfall of black hair, cascading down her back…
Mallory and Zara! I zoomed in further, inspecting them. They went. They actually went to my funeral. They...cared.
“Show me my house,” I commanded, mood lighter.
I didn’t know how much I missed my home until it came into view. The blacktop street, the hills of snow on the side. The thin white veil covering the roof. I took a look inside, at my room. They’d left it the way it was. The gigantic cat calendar that loomed over the desk. The laundry heaped together ungraciously. My bunk, the fluffy pillows that couldn’t compare to the ones at Heaven. The cluttered desk. The--
Note.
Goals.
I gasped, heart thumping dangerously in my chest. The goals...be a heroine.
A heroine.
A jigsaw puzzle pieced itself together in head. I’d saved Tullia. I’d saved a real life girl, my own sister.
I’d died a heroine.