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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
this is a short story that i wrote for class and i actually ended up really liking.
It is written from the point of view of a girl who gets cancer and thats really all you need to know. Even that much might be giving too much away but i don't think it'll ruin the story. Tell me if you think it ruined the story.

Submitted: October 11, 2007

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 11, 2007




Sometimes when I sit alone in the dark, in the dead of the night, I can remember the time when I was happy. When my smile lit up the whole room and I was friendly. My heart would dance and I would sing and I was surrounded by my friends.

That’s all in the past. Now I’m alone. Nobody at school knows who I am. Sometimes I think my own parents even forget my name. All they care about is the dazzling beauty known as my sister. Jolie Claire. Even her name has a certain ring to it. She has boys flocking around her at school and falling over themselves to cater to her every need. Our phone rings off the hook, but is it ever for me? Not a chance. I don’t even bother to check the caller ID anymore.

I write all day, every day. Short stories, long stories, poems, songs; you name it, I write it. However, this is a special story. It’s the only story I’ve ever written about myself. Honestly, that’s usually the specific type of thing I try to avoid. In fact, there is something else that I have been avoiding. It’s a very big part of me but it isn’t in any way something I chose or something I like. It is what made me who I am today, but I should really start at the beginning.



Like I said before, I used to be happy. So a good starting point might be telling you about that time. I had lots and lots of friends, and when the phone rang, about half the time (maybe more) it was for me.

I loved to sing and dance and I always got the lead in any play or musical I tried out for. I was Annie, Alice in Wonderland, Anne Frank, Juliet, and many more. Every show I ever performed in was sold out. Granted, half the audience usually consisted of my friends.

I went to parties every Friday and Saturday night where I stayed long past curfew and had to sneak in. I remember climbing in through the window and seeing my parents there, furious. Now, I’m almost positive they miss those days.

One of my best friends was Charlotte. We spent almost every day together and she was extremely supportive of me. She went to every performance of every show I was ever in. I don’t want to sound mean, but Charlotte was somewhat of an airhead and not very smart. That worked for me, though, because she never got jealous like so many of my other friends.

I can’t begin to describe how many friends I lost over jealousy. I very rarely got jealous. Instead, it was usually a friend who became envious of me. I was an idiot and so I didn’t even care or bother to do anything about it. It wasn’t always over the lead in some play, either. Often friends would get jealous over some guy who I probably didn’t care about and was just using to get whatever it was I wanted.

I used to be beautiful. Girls would get jealous of that, too. Naturally, I had amazing hair. It was longish and blonde, always looked perfect, and carried a faint aroma of my herbal essences shampoo and conditioner. Now, it lives in a ponytail holder covered in a cheap, black dye job complements of yours truly. I am a little on the short side, and I suppose I have the same body that I always did, even though the clothes covering it are completely different. For some reason, my parents loved buying me designer clothes. Maybe it was because that was practically the only time I was ever actually nice to them. Now, I simply just throw on whatever it is I first find without caring about the brand name, designer or cost. I used to be obsessed with cost. I wanted the most expensive of everything and I would throw a huge fit if I didn’t get it.

I remember when I was about ten and one of my friends got a cell phone. She was pretty much the first of our peers for a couple years to get a phone. So when I got home my mom asked me the same question that she did every day.

“How was school?” Normally, my answer was the same a simple, short grunt that sounded somewhat like the word fine. However, on this particular day my answer was different.

“Well, mom,” I said her name with the same level of distain as some people would use to describe dirty laundry, “Susie got a cell phone today and now all of my friends are going to get phones, and I’ll be the only one without one.” Of course this wasn’t true but I wanted to put up a good argument.

“Oh honey, you know phones are expensive and your sister didn’t get one until she was twelve. You can wait just like your sister.” Being the brat that I was, I proceeded to throw a massive tantrum. I began to yell, stomp, slam doors, and I refused to talk to either of my parents until they presented me with my brand new phone. It went this way with a lot of things such as piercing, drinking, a car, a computer, parties, and tanning. Tanning was the biggest mistake I have ever made.


Some of my friends started tanning at a really young age. So, naturally I wanted to join them. I begged and pleaded until finally my parents allowed me to do it. It started when I was only thirteen and by the time I had turned sixteen I had already been diagnosed with melanoma. That’s what changed my life.

I did some research on melanoma soon after the diagnosis. It is a type of skin cancer that you can often get from tanning. It is, in fact, the most serious type of skin cancer. It begins in skin cells called melanocytes. The chance of getting melanoma increases as you get older, but people of any age can get the disease. Treatments include surgery (which is always the first treatment). Later treatments can be immunotherapy, chemotherapy, and radiation therapy. When I was seventeen I went through chemotherapy. I hated chemotherapy because it made me lose all of my precious hair, and I was in wigs for way too long (in my opinion).  Now, I’m eighteen and am scared to death that the cancer is going to come back.

As soon as I was diagnosed with cancer I stopped singing, dancing, and talking to my friends. Like I’ve mentioned, it totally changed my life. While I was busy ignoring my friends I had a lot of time to think. That’s why I started to write. It helped me process my ideas if I could get them down on paper. I realize now that even though I was happy before, nobody else was. I treated my parents and all my friends like crap. It must have been so hard for them, which is part of the reason I exclude myself from the world now. I am afraid that if I open myself up, even a little, I will get wrapped up in all those things that don’t matter, and I don’t want to be that person again. I would rather be miserably by myself rather than happily taking advantage of people.




I am far from happy with what I have done with my life. In the past I was deliriously happy, but I was exceedingly spiteful.

 Now, I avoid contact with other humans the best I can (and I’ve gotten pretty good at it, too). I simply can’t help being terrified of what will happen if I put myself into a relationship again. But at the same time I am terrified of what will happen if I don’t.

I have somewhat of a good grasp on reality, and I don’t lack a whole lot of common sense so I know that eventually I am going to have to change.

There has to be something (or someone) in the future for me and I am afraid that if I’m not in the right place at the right time I’m going to miss it. Frankly, the future haunts me more then my dreadful past because I am in total control of my future and can do nothing to change my past.

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