Chapter
One:

  In the corner of the room
listening to the history teacher drone on about the fall of Islamic Empire, I
doodled figurines of people dying upon the wall. Mr. Vave is so blind he
doesn’t even know I’m vandalizing the school walls. Not like I’m going to get
in major trouble, probably just detention for cleaning it up with the janitor’s
supplies.

  Ever heard of Teen Titans? Well,
you know Raven, the one who can read your mind and is very dark? Yeah, well, I
made it pretty clear to my whole student body class for the past four years
that I was her. My personality, my life, my thoughts and actions are all just
like her. Raven is my character idol. The only thing different about us is that
I don’t wear dark clothes.

  When I got into high school no
one would ever thought that a popular girl from junior high would turn dark
over the summer. Like is it possible for that to happen over 130 days? I would
never have thought of these four years ago. I probably still think I be the
popular girl strolling through the halls with my girls and the hottest guy as
my boyfriend. But, that is all wrong. I’m the girl with a purple bob hair,
black eyeliner around my eyes, red lipstick, and a band t-shirt with ripped
jeans along with sneakers.

  Shocking ain’t it? Like I used
to wear skirts, dresses, and short shorts, my hair was blonde as ever, and I
always and I mean always wore heels. Big difference isn’t it? I bet your
reading this and thinking, “What would have made someone like her turn into
something like that?” Ha! Well, I guess you’re just gonna have to find out.

  “Dylan? Have you heard what I’ve
been teaching?” Mr. Vave asked me through his microphone. I looked up to him
and cocked my head with a devious smile, “No Mark. I did not hear what you were
teaching, due to the fact I can’t stop wondering what your wife will be
thinking when she finds out you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Miss
Ling.”

  The class broke out into
snickers and Mr. Vave blushed horribly and I knew I won again. Obviously, he
can’t get me into trouble without knowing that I’ll just ruin his life and tell
his spouse. The last time he tried to get me suspended it ended with him
hanging from the ceiling with no help of any objects, just my mind and its dark
thoughts. (Told you I was Raven.) No, I’m lying. I just got him into a trap
filled with spiders, fake snakes, a net that held him, and gooey substances
that burst whenever he moved in the net.

  “Oh, but Dylan it would be
wonderful if you could listen while I was teaching.”

  “Oh, but it would be wonderful
if you could steer away from Miss Ling and hang around women your own age, and
not twenty years younger, huh?”

  Again I got the class to erupt
in chuckles. I bet that got the boring lesson a little spice.

  “Okay, Dylan you’re excused from
class, just don’t start anything horrendous with me or anyone in fact.” Mr.
Vave begged me. I smiled and gave him a wave and a bow to the class. He, Mr.
Vave,wouldexcuse me from class in case I blurted
more of his personal life to the students who’ll gossip it till it reaches Mrs.
Vave’s ears.

  Well, I guess that ends my
lessons for today. I walked up to the security desk and showed my I.D. She
hushed me away and I walked off to my car which I will be driving to the
hospital. Why the hospital? Well, why not? I could meet many new sick people
today and scare the living shits out of them. Huh, that really sounds fun, but
that’s not why I am going.

  Of the summer of going into my
freshman year of high school I got sent to the E.R. after my lungs dropped. I
didn’t have asthma, I never smoked or did drugs, and it was all just a bad
karma for my lungs. I’m still shock I survived both of my lungs dropping and
filling up with fluids. My doctor told me I had a 1 in 4 chance of surviving
this tragic.

  I was hooked up to an imPAP that
helped me breathe for the next year and a half. After that, my doctor told me I
had no cancer it was just a stress pressure against my lungs and diaphragm. A
year later I found out I had disease in my brain. There was a tumor the size of
a ping pong ball. The hospital discovered that my lungs dropping were due to
the fact my tumor was growing.

  How could they not have possibly
caught that?

  At the hospital when I found out
I had brain disease the neurosurgeon told me that my disease was not rare for
many people, but it was very rare for my family since no one has ever had it. He
told me I had Alzheimer. That is when you lose your memory and it may go back
to three years or if you’re older than me thirty years. He told me that he was
shock I haven’t forgotten anything and was thinking what this tumor can be.

  I remember asking what the tumor
was and he told me their only clue was that it was a benign tumor. It was true.
I did have a benign tumor, and it always came back. That’s why I repeatedly
come back to the hospital, and why I am the way I am today.

  The familiar surroundings of
medicine, cleaning supplies, and the many colors of pink, baby blue, and navy
outfits roaming the halls of Jeremy St. Luke’s Hospital engulfed me. I could
literally tell you who’s who by the color of their work outfits. Pink is the
nurses. Baby blue is either the residents or interns. Navy is for the
attendings. The only person in the whole hospital that doesn’t wear any of
those colors is Chief Andris. He wears purple. I don’t know why, maybe it’s his
favorite color or just because he wants people to know who’s boss.

  Nurse Jen saw me walk in and
stormed over to me with the biggest grin I will always see and engulfed me.
Yeah, she loves me. She can’t live without me she stated once, and I to her.
Nurse Jen and I first met after they got the imPAP into me so I could breathe.
Originally, she wasn’t supposed to be my nurse, but she got stuck with this
old, grumpy, suicidal man. She begged Chief Andris over and over till the point
I paged Chief and told him to give her me. It was literally that annoying. Jen
was all over him like a puppy begging for a new shoe after he ruined the
owner’s new ones.

  When Jen and I started chatting
up we gave the old man a nickname; BiMeanie. We actually gave every patient a
nickname that was kind of harsh or was ookie dookie. The hospital named us the
Twisted Sisters after Meredith Grey and Christina Yang from “Grey’s Anatomy.” I
was Christina and Jen was Meredith. The only thing missing is Dr. McDreamy and
Solider Boy.

  “Oh, my gosh! Where have you
been Dylan?” Jen squealed. “I’ve like haven’t seen you in ages!” (I still think
she’s more of an Izzie to me than Meredith.)

  I hugged her back, “Well, I’ve
been at school being the badass I am and making sure my memory doesn’t go
missing. You?”

  “Well, I’ve been put in
BiMeanie’s service again.”

  “Again?”

   “Yeah, um I went to PEDS the past week to help
Dr. Crank with the newborns, and I passed tools in five surgeries the last
three days.”

  “That’s great! Getting a good
pay?” I asked her joking.

  “Oh, hell yeah! I’m getting the
best pay in five years!”

  Jen and I laughed our asses off
and then she took me to the scan room to see if another pair of tumors came in
and to check on my memory. Every three months they give me three words to
remember and I have to restate them back three months later. At first the words
are simple like; spoon, cat, house. Then they get complex like; photosynthesis,
leukemia, Madagascar.

  “Can you restate the three words
you were told last session?”

  “Bulimia, omnivore, and
umbilical cord,” I restated back.

  Jen smiled and high-fived me in
accomplish. “Great! You’re not getting anywhere near Alzheimer.”

  “I keep thinking that Dr. Dewy
was wrong, but then I don’t know.” I told her.        
   

  Jen got up from her seat and
wrapped her arm around me. She opened the door and led me to the interns’ room.
I’m currently an intern here on some days, nurse and attending on others. I was
once an assistance chief, but that didn’t last after I exploded the cafeteria
microwave when putting a deceased brain inside. Funny story but I ain’t getting
into details.

  I put on some baby blue scrubs
and went along with the other interns learning new things about the human
anatomy. The hospital didn’t allow me to work with other patients or
participate in surgeries. I didn’t mind because I knew one day I will be able
to. Well, if I last that long...

  After I went through five hours
of interning I met up with Jen to go home. She usually gets off of work around
five in the afternoon. Jen told me I should just become a nurse, because then
I’ll be able to hang with my family. But, I would rather be an attending in
some medical field than as a nurse. I’m more into PEDS or Trauma fields. I love
children and I would love to do extraordinary surgeries in the trauma section.

  “So, how was the medical
knowledge today?” Jen asked from the driver’s seat.

  “Great! I learned that if
someone has chest pain it may be something in the aorta, and they die as soon
as we find out. Also, if two people who have the same lung disease they can’t
stay three feet from each because it’ll only worsen their case. Plus, chief
taught me how to stitch together a fake lung correctly if I ever do lung
surgery.”

  Jen smiled at me through the
mirror and said, “I bet you know more than I do by now.”

  I looked at her shocked. “What?
Are you kidding me? I’ve only done this for two years, there’s no way I know
more.”

  “Are you sure? Cause Chief
Andris told me he might just put you in the official intern class after you
graduate, but you’ll have to do two to four years of college learning in his
office.”

  “You’ve got to be joking me!” I
squealed!

  She chuckled, “I ain’t joking
Dyl.”

  I went to bed that night super
excited. Chief Andris was going to give me an opportunity of a life time that I
doubt anyone has ever received. How did I get this lucky? Like this is insane!

  My dreams were mostly of me
being in trauma and taking in all these messed up people with severe injuries.
One guy had a knife in his head, another had two legs sticking out his back,
and finally my last patient was of a guy who came in drunk with half his waist
being cut and dripping blood. Oh, that was probably by far the best dream I’ve
ever had since I could remember. And oh my, I was an amazing resident because
Dr. Penner was very approval of me and let me do half of the surgeries the
other residents couldn’t do! Yup, I’m so like Christina Yang!

  Three days of classes went by
with me getting three detentions and being a nurse for one day. This week seems
so far boring, but actually it only got worse. On the fourth night I was sent
to the hospital. My lung on the right dropped again. This time the tumor in my
brain did not start it. I was told I had lung damage.

  The damage in my lung was a
confusing case. They still don’t understand how my tumor couldn’t have caused
the drop in my lung this time. Dr. Dewy believes I might actually have lung
cancer this time. So, for now, till they can find a cure and a reason for my
lung I will be on a ventilator. I named it Mo because it looked like one.

  Mo and I have been together for
the past month. I guess you could say we’re in a relationship and our ship name
is Dylmo. (You combine our names together.) Mo is very kind and helps my lung
breathe. How can I live without him? And I, well, I’ve been very down. I don’t
get to work within these walls of the hospital if you don’t count me making
sure my breathing and memory don’t fail.

  Jen and Chief Andris have
visited me when my parents weren’t bawling their eyes out upon my bed. They
would give me news about the most disturbing cases I’ve missed, (I think Chief
is just rubbing it in my face.) and sometimes gave me charts to fill out with
notes the interns and residents left for me. Yay charts! Not.

  A month of being a cancer patient
and I still can’t leave this place. It’s not like I don’t like being here. It’s
just I rather be a doctor than a patient. I’ve watched over three seasons of
“Grey’s Anatomy” and watch over thirty soapy romance movies. I swear I could
write a novel with all the ideas of love. Maybe I can be the next Jane Austen
or John Green.

  “So Dylan, are you ready for
your next chemo treatment?” Nurse Mike asked me from the hallway.

  “Never wanted it more than now,”
I said sarcastically. Nurse Mike chuckled and helped me into the wheel chair
since now walking is too tiring for me.

  Nurse Mike pushed me through the
halls of the cancer ward. People of all ages scattered everywhere in rooms with
many machines of every kind hooked up to them. I once saw a baby probably four
months, hooked up to device that helped her heart beat. I bet the baby is in a
coma. Poor soul.

  In a room filled with other
cancer patients waiting for their chemo sat around me. I have gotten to know at
least half the people around me. To my left is Kait. She’s been in chemo for
three years. She’s twenty-six years old and she was supposed to marry tomorrow,
but a tumor in her back caused her to post pone. Timmy, age nine, stage three
of leukemia, has been here with us for almost half his life. Sand Pipe sat
across me. He is my age and he has stage four liver cancer. Sand has been
drinking and smoking pot since he was twelve, so this is his punishment for peer
pressure. Sand is the closest friend I got here. He actually has the room
across from mine. We would always eat lunch together or he’ll role himself to
my room and watches chick flicks and asks me medical questions.

  Sand told me one day that his
name wasn’t Sand it was just a nickname, “Well, no duh! I knew that!” I slapped
his shoulder from my bed.

  “Why didn’t you ask me what my
real name is then?”

  “Why should I? I like Sand, it
suits you.” I told him with a smile.

  “Well, would you like to know
Dyl?” Sand asked me seriously. I nodded in response, “My name is Kyle. Kyle
Murphy.”

  I smiled, “I like Kyle. Can I
call you that from now on?” Sand smiled at me and nodded his head in agreement.

  “Yeah, I would love that. It
gets tiring that nobody close to me wants to call me Kyle.”

  I shifted in my seat and grabbed
his hands and held them in mine, “Can you tell me the story behind your
nickname Sand Pipe?”

  Kyle told me the story behind
his name. It was basically a druggie thing you had to do to be a part of a
gang. He was told to take or smoke as much drugs from the selected drugs they
bought. Kyle picked the smallest drugs that they had. The drug he chose was
called a Sand Pipe. It was very grainy, and the only way to get high off it was
through a small cylinder pipe. He had to snuff the drug through his nose. From
what Kyle told me it burned like hell. Kyle told me did at least four packs of
Sand Pipe.

  “So...you didn’t die from this?
How the hell did you survive this?” I questioned in utter shock.

  Kyle blushed, “Don’t ask me.
Remember everyone’s brains are different.”

  “Still, four packs of Sand Pipe!
Who the hell has the guts to do something as dangerous as that?”

  Kyle pointed to himself, “I do.
I’m the almighty god who can survive four packs of Sand Pipe.” I slapped him
with the magazine I had on my dresser nearby. “Hey! Okay, that was very stupid
of me.”

  “Yeah, Kyle, very idiotic of you
to do,”

  Kyle passed away eight days
later. It was the most depressing thing I’ve had to go through while I was
still living. Kyle was the most perfect guy that could have lived. He had the
brightest and biggest grin you’ll ever see. His eyes were the perfect shade of
chocolate brown, and they sparkled everywhere he went. His hand fitted
perfectly in mine when I was in his room watching horror movies. Kyle was my
perfect best friend.

  I spent the next week and half
depressed. Nothing could change my state. Not even Jen or charts or visits from
the interns that I’ve gotten close with. The only person I wanted right here
next to me was Kyle. He was the only person who could keep me happy. Kyle was
the only person I wanted to express my hurt to, but the hurt was his death.
This world is not a wishing-giving-facility.

  As my face and body was covered
with a white blanket I listened to “You and Me” by Lifehouse. It gave me the
memories of my adventure with Kyle. It perfectly described our friendship. It
told of how we can’t part. How we can’t keep our eyes off each other. How we
didn’t want to part because our presence brightened each other. Just basically
I mourned for him. I mourned for his shampoo smell and druggie stories. Mostly
his laugh and smile. I missed Kyle.

  “Dylan? What are you going to
do?” I heard Jen say from next to me.

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She
said with her voice breaking. “What are you going to do with your life? Kyle
would want you to move on.”

  “You don’t know what Kyle would
want! You didn’t even know who he was!” I yelled at her after I threw my covers
off to show how I pissed I was.

  Jen staggered back, “I’m so
sorry Dyl. I just want you to get better.”

  “Better? Really? I’m sick, I
can’t get healthy again!” I scowled, “I never was getting healthier.” I softly
said.

  Jen walked over and sat on my
bedside. She combed her hand through my purple hair. I heard her hum a song I
didn’t recognize. She wasn’t actually helping my situation, but I felt I yelled
at her enough so I just let her continue. After a while Jen stopped and hugged
me. I returned the favor and gave her the brightest smile I could offer.