Young Writers Society

I "talked" with Elyse the rest of the week. We had grown closer and closer. She was my best friend. My only one, too but the best one I had ever had.

I was diagnosed with leukemia.

"How come you don't talk?" she inquired one day.

I wrote on the pad, "Because I am nervous. Whenever I am in a social situation, I guess I just freeze up. Also, my grandma just died."

"Oh. I am sorry." she said softly.

We sat there in silence for a while.

"I have cancer too. I have been in here for a while. I have lymphoma, not leukemia though." she said.

"I am sorry." I wrote.

"It sucks, but I am getting better. I hope you do too." she replied. 

She reached out and squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back.

"Its okay. I have gotten used to it. At least I get to be homeschooled." she said bluntly.

It was late now, almost 9:00. We went to sleep.

The next morning, when I woke up I had breakfast, and then Dr. Reeds came in.

"Elana, today you are going to have your first round of chemo. For day 1, you will just get a pill but by next week you will do the normal way."

She took a bottle out of her hand, and it sounded like normal pills. She had poured three or four into my hand, but she picked one out and handed it to me. I fingered it in my hand. It was bright red, and kind of soft. I popped it into my mouth, and when I was about to swallow it, Dr. Reeds said that I had to chew it. So I did.

It tasted horrible, like how I thought that stinky socks would taste. I quickly swallowed it and guzzled the glass of water on my night table. At that time I knew that it was the only one of those pills that I would take. I didn't know if regular chemo was going to be much better, but it had to be better than the pills.

Each day of the week, the amount of tests and times I was taken out of the hospital room increased. My mom visited me every day, but she wasn't allowed to stay very long. Elyses mom did too, and it was kind of awkward the first time I saw Elyse's mom and she asked me a bunch of questions. She was a talker too, and by the time Elyse had been able to tell her that I didn't talk, she had asked me five questions. Elyse explained, and I buried my face into my pillow. I wasn't a huge fan of Elyse's mom, but I would live. 

Wouldn't I?