I'm Dying, Mate.

Prologue: The Dying Girl

Sorry if I keep having new stories its because ideas keep running in my head but I promise i will finish them until the end

Also, I wrote this when I was 12 and I was cheesy back then not that I am not now but a bearable kind of cheesy and my grammar was atrocious back then so I'll do what I can in the editing. 

Thank You sh3ry25 for the picture of the past cast! I unfortunately have to change them due to the rewriting though some would stay the same and I won't take this down. It's too pretty to take down.

If I put a number and title in the chapters it means it is edited

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Prologue: The Dying Girl

Death is nothing at all. It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
~Henry Scott-Holland

She watch and stare at him, hoping like the dying patient that she is even though the truth was obvious, she was too pale, too knobby kneed to be called healthy. She didn't even have hair anymore and she isn't getting any better.

The doctor looks at her, his eyes soft, and as he cleared his throat he looks at the papers that he was holding, it was the results. He checks the ECG to try to slow the inevitable but it doesn't work, it would never work since the truth has always been that she is in fact, dying. 

Even though he did everything he could, to repay her mother for saving his own daughter, he couldn't save her. All he could do is let her live, let her do what she wants, to walk around again, and let her choose her own path.

"You're dying" he finally said the words that the both of them already knew  "in a year's time"

Iona laughs and she shakes her head, which once had those beautiful dark locks, and leaned back to the hospital bed. 

She was right, how could she not be right? Even though her eyes glowed with life, her body was still filled with bruises that she couldn't begin to count, and her body is as thin as paper. Her once radiance was gone like her hopes, and her dreams. All she could do was smile, and laugh while trying to tell the others that she was fine but she wasn't. What else could she say? What story can she tell to people? when all your life you lived in this solitary life. 

All she knew was the hospital, and her brief public education when she was young. She barely had any friends at that time since she was still fresh from remission, too fragile even when they thought she was okay. 

"Doc, we all know that I'm dying, you just gave a deadline" Iona chuckles "Well, there isn't any more news, right? I guess, I should go"

The doctor smiled at her boldness "yeah, you should live your life. Well, I will sign the papers to discharge you"

Iona smiles "thank you, doc... For everything"

"You're welcome" the doctor then extracts the IV, and puts it away. He puts enough pressure with a sterile cotton ball on it, trying to stop her from bleeding. "Well, I could... call your uncle to tell them about your condition... at least or if you want me to"

"I would like to do it" Iona shrugs "maybe someday... on my own, but not now, I don't want to tell them yet since they still don't know that mom is dead. Maybe, I'll drop off to their house once I am ready to say goodbye"