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Perfect This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


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The eyeliner makes the dark circles less pronounced. The lip gloss hides the trembling. The ponytail conceals missing patches of hair. The Abercrombie sweater covers bruises. I might look at bit thinner, but everyone will ask about my new diet. My hair might not shine the way it used to, but the pink ribbon will distract curious eyes. One hour of preparation and I look like myself. One hour of preparation and no one will know. One hour out of 24. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it – wasting a twenty-fourth of my day on a lie. But then I see my wispy hair and baggy eyes, and I have to do it.

Checking my makeup one last time, I push my sleeves up, though not past my elbows. I slip on a cute pair of flats – heels are too dangerous with shaky legs – and grab my Hollister bag. Padding downstairs, I inhale the scent of waffles and syrup.

“Morning, Mom,” I call.

“Morning, baby,” she chirps. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than I have been.”

She sighs, and her eyes look a hundred years old for a minute. “Any improvement is good,” she says half-heartedly.

“Of course.”

“I made waffles.” Her offering.

“Thanks, Mom. Smells delicious.” My offering.

I sit at the table and she hands me a plate. The thought of all that food turns my stomach, but I force a smile and thank my mother again. She busies herself at the sink and fills the silence with chatter. When she turns around, she takes in the waffles still on my plate, only missing a few bites. I smile apologetically.

“I’m not very hungry this morning.”

“You’ll need your strength for this afternoon.” She bites her lip. She doesn’t like to bring it up over breakfast. I eat another bite.

“I packed your lunch.”

“I’m 18, Mom. I can pack my own lunch. You have more important things to do.”

She reaches for the paper sack. “But now I know you’ll have something to eat. And you need to eat, okay? You have to keep your strength up.”

Sighing, I take the bag. I know this peanut butter and jelly sandwich won’t be eaten, not any more than the one yesterday or the day before. And even if I do eat it, I’ll just throw it up later. Anything consumed after 11 ends up in a plastic basin at 4:07. It’s just the way it works.

“Hon, have you thought about what I said the other day?” she asks.

I shrug noncommittally.

“Sweetheart, you can’t hide this forever. Eventually you’re going to miss school and people will start asking questions.”

“Mom, I have two months left of high school. I can make it ’til then. I’m class president and probably valedictorian. I was voted ‘Most popular,’ ‘Most fun to be around,’ ‘Best smile,’ and ‘Most likely to succeed.’ I’m the girl who’s got it all together. People don’t want to know that the girl who’s got it all together, doesn’t have it all together. People don’t want to know that girl is dying!”

“Honey, don’t say that. You’re not dying.”

“Yes, I am. I have cancer. You heard Dr. Morrison. I have maybe a year left. But that means I can graduate and then never see those people again. I’ll die and they’ll feel sorry for me, but at least I won’t have to endure their pity.”

“But …,” she tries to interrupt.

“Mom, listen to me. I don’t want to be the girl everyone looks at and whispers, ‘Look at her. Poor thing, she has cancer.’ I can’t handle that. I want to be normal. Just for these last two months.”

“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. Just remember, it’s okay if you don’t have it all together. Sometimes things just fall apart and there’s nothing we can do.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I grab my bag and lunch and kiss her on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” my mom replies. This exchange, once taken for granted, is now a vital part of every morning, every afternoon, every night. Three little words, followed by four more, have come to mean more than an entire conversation. They bridge all gaps and disagreements, because we both know there is now a finite number left.

Keys in hand, I open the door and blink in the early morning sun. My silver car waits in the driveway and as I walk toward it, I check my reflection in the tinted window. Perfect.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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haleynicole(: said...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 5:29 pm:
that was simply breathtaking....it was sad yet interesting at the same time and it made me think about how many times ive told my family i love them an if my days with them r finite.... great job!! keep writing(: and do you think you could read some of my work and comment on it?!?!? because i could really use some help with my writing!! thnx(:
 
haleynicole(: replied...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 5:30 pm :
oh it also made me think about my favorite movie - A Walk to Remeber(:
 
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Bambi3226 said...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 5:12 pm:
Wow...thats really all that needs saying...
 
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ѕтоямιε.♥ said...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 3:59 pm:
OMG, this is amazing!! it's sad, but it's perfect. i can relate to the "finite number"... no, i don't have cancer, but i knew someone who did.
 
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Laughternchoclate said...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 2:27 pm:
Can you make her get better in the end? That wud b the best
 
xtwilightx95 replied...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 3:29 pm :
Altoyugh it would be geat if she would get better in the end, some stories just dont work out like that... just like real life. Sometimes thats just whats best for the story.
 
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SharpestSatire said...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 1:06 pm:
oh, so sad. good job! where do the bruises come from? at first i thought she was in a bad relationship with some guy, then maybe starving herself.... i don't know. maybe you should make it more clear in the doc you have, since i know TeenInk doesn't let you change something once it's posted.... anyway, kudos! awesome job! :)
 
Kelsey H. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 3:21 pm :
The bruises come from the needles used to deliver the chemo therapy.
 
SharpestSatire replied...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 3:46 pm :
Oh, that makes sense now! Thanks for clearing that up! :)
 
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bells said...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 10:35 am:
This was truley amazing it completly captavated me from beginning to end.
 
beautiful*downfall replied...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 12:35 pm :
I thought this was really good! The only thing, though, is that it sounded a bit forced, unrealistic, when she tells her mom that she was voted "most popular, most likely to succeed, etc." Her mother already knows this... It would have sounded better if it was said short and casually, and then maybe, to bring your point across more to the reader, it could be stated more like how it was, simply without the quotation marks. Overall, though, I thought this was a great story!! I especially... (more »)
 
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xLpoet said...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 10:17 am:
This is very good. I like the beginning detail and how the end gives it much more meaning.
 
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billydee22ny said...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 7:22 am:
Fantastic. Yuo should definitely continue to write. I could totally see myself reading a novel based on this excerpt.
 
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Angel_writer1481 said...
Feb. 8, 2010 at 1:16 am:
Awesome! really thought provoking. liked it.
 
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notebookgirl said...
Feb. 7, 2010 at 2:24 pm:
I couldnt finish the article becuse since my uncle died anything about death makes my chest hurt, but the part i did read was very well written. good job
 
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Saadat C. said...
Feb. 2, 2010 at 6:10 pm:
willie, i thought u were a boy!
 
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violingoddess said...
Jan. 28, 2010 at 11:12 am:
oh my goodness! that is just a well written piece of work there :) very well done.
 
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Shannon B. said...
Jan. 25, 2010 at 1:11 pm:
incredible!
 
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peace_love_beauty said...
Jan. 22, 2010 at 11:28 am:
Wow, this was really good! Keep writing! :-)
 
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jordan<3 said...
Jan. 19, 2010 at 3:53 pm:
This was really vivid.
I liked it alot.
Continue it!
Keep Writing,
- jordan<3
 
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dudeamiawesome said...
Jan. 18, 2010 at 6:39 pm:
Chill on those adverbs. Beware of purple prose.
 
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