It's officially two weeks until I'm supposed to die.
The chemo hasn't really started working yet.
I've been feeling like shit, and since Niall found me, it hasn't gotten much better.
The boys have been calling me every day, checking up on me, making sure I'm okay.
I'll lie and say I'm doing great, but I'm not.
I'm not okay.
I'm dying, and they don't know that.
A sudden thought occurs to me.
Why don't I try and end it again?
The boys wouldn't care, I'd be free of cancer, and my life.
I search around my room for my pencil case.
I want to die, and I'm going to.
Finding the green plastic sharpener and a pair of scissors, I remove the blades.
I've thought about this countless times before, but I've never done it.
I bring the sharp side of the blade to my wrist and sigh.
Did I actually want to die this way?
I angrily throw the blade at the ground and bring my hands to my eyes.
Why does it have to be this way?
Why do I have to be the one with cancer?
A vibrating sound comes from beside me. I follow the noise, finding it and sighing.
Niall's calling me, yet again.
"Hanna, how are you?" His light. Irish voice chirps through the speaker, almost making me cringe at how happy he is.
"Just as any other day, great" I lie, waiting for a response from Niall.
"I'm not sure you're fine. I mean, sure, you can be, but I'm doubting it."
"Niall, you can't honestly expect me to be ha-"
A light hiccup causes bile to rise in my throat.
"Hanna, are you okay?"
I nod in response, but then remember he can't see me.
I choose not to open my mouth, in fear I'll vomit everywhere.
Instead, I run to the bathroom, phone in hand.
I open my mouth over the toilet, letting the acidic bile spill into the bowl.
"Hanna, are you there?"
I hang up, he doesn't need to hear this.
---------------------------
"Hanna! Are you okay?" Niall asks me, looking at my pale face.
It takes me a while to process his question, I nod weakly, and slowly blink.
He shakes his head and looks down at me.
"You're not okay,"
"I'm fine," I cough, avoiding eye contact with Niall.
He sighs heavily and lifts me up gently.
I shake my head, almost as if telling him to put me down.
I'm gonna vomit again.
I squirm out of his grip and vomit in the toilet bowl.
What is going on?
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and look up at Niall.
