The Dragon Who Finally Came

A doctor once vaguely told me 'I had about a month.' This statement confused me so I asked him to elaborate 'A month until what?' At this his face got very sad and his hands very sweaty 'A month... until you die...' I looked at him for a moment then finally nodded 'That was to be expected...' And just like that he sadly left my little hospital room to leave me to my imagination. That conversation happened one month ago...

I am sure you all are wondering 'If she was supposed to die a month ago how is she writing this?' Well the doctor did say 'about' a month until I died. But I must say I did surprise a few of the doctors. But you see the reason I hadn't died yet was because I hadn't completed my masterpiece. After all... no artist can die without leaving behind their greatest work for future generations to gawk at!

Now you must be asking 'Masterpiece? How can she make art work from a hospital bed?!' Well if you're actually thinking that I must say I am insulted! But I also must confess I might have not told you the whole story about my soon to be finished 'masterpiece'. When I say 'soon to be finished' you might say 'hasn't been started yet'. But you see that's why I couldn't let myself die! I needed an idea so I could at least 'imagine' my artwork before I did. Then I could be happy because I at least got to 'see' it in my imagination. Only problem? I couldn't think of an idea...

Oh I should probably tell you my name! My name is Crystal, I'm 16, at one point my dream was to be an airplane pilot, and you are...? 'A figment of my imagination'? Well it's very nice to meet you 'A figment of my imagination'! Wait...

Well with the formalities out of the way I should probably tell you a few things about myself. As you already know I'm an artist, without a masterpiece, and I'm dying. The doctors told me I had some gene from my birth mother that caused me to have some kind of cancer. They told me what kind it was I just wasn't paying attention.

I knew I was dying and that's all that mattered I didn't care what I was dying from and I knew once I had died I still wouldn't care. I mean how many people do you see walking around who have died, asking how it happened? In how many zombie apocalypse movies do the zombies care that they're killing more people they same way they died? The answer to both of those questions is none. At least it is for me... If you see your dead aunt walking around asking you questions then you should do one of two things. Call an exorcist. Or call a physiatrist. I suggest the latter...

Now with all the fun stuff out of the way I can introduce you to my family! (Queue chirping crickets... P.S. this is the moment when you say 'What family Crystal?' then I laugh and answer your question.) What a great question! That's right I don't have a family! According to my 'former' foster parents my birth father ditched my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant with yours truly. (This is when you all call him a jerk...) I know he is a jerk! Thanks for agreeing with me! Let me draw you a smiley face in gratitude! :) You're welcome.

Now! On to my birth mother! She herself hadn't had cancer but apparently her mom did. When it was time for me to be born something went wrong and she died. That left me without knowing either of my birth parents. So I was put into the foster care system since I didn't have any other relatives that would take me. When I was three years old I was taken in by a foster family. They seemed to really care about me! Until they found out I had cancer and got rid of me because they couldn't pay for it... (What's with these crickets?! Oh you can call them jerks too if you want.)

So now we're back to where we started with me lying in a hospital bed, dying, without an idea... I knew my masterpiece would be a drawing, since that was basically the only art I could do from bed. I had told the nurses of my dreamed masterpiece and they really took to the idea. They all went out of their way to bring me sketchbooks, ink, pencils, chalk, markers, crayons; basically I had every kind of paper and writing utensil known to man! But there was one nurse who was even better than all the rest...