• I heard my mom screaming, tears rolling down her eyes, as she sobbed uncontrollably.
    "My baby! My baby!" She repeated, tears falling down her cheeks. I helplessly laid in the hospital bed.
    Today, I woke up in the morning for school. While I was getting dressed I realized one of my breast had a lump. I yelled for my mom to see it, that's when she gasped, tears already welled up in her eyes. She is very emotional. Anyway, I was dragged down the hall, to the stairs, and out the door, where my mom almost knocked my head off with the car door because she wasn't thinking clearly, and I don't even think she was mentally here, just physically. The drive to the hospital was hectic. Mom praying to Jesus, me worried about getting into a car wreck. We arrived at the what looked like a wide skyscraper, in my opion, because i haven't seen a sky scraper in real life, that was the ER in Pottsville. After, finding a parking space at the end of the lot, we headed into the waiting room that had a fresh chemical smell, with the walls painted a calm green color. People who were injured and parents that looked worried and other parents looked like they wanted to be somewhere else loitered in the room. While mom was checking me in, I sauntered over to an open chair by the back window and picked up a magazine. A guy not even 15 came over and sat beside me. His right eye was bleeding and it looked like his eyes wasn't there, just a black hole with blood running out of his eye. I looked at the magazine, distracting myself from him and everything else for that matter. After about 15 minutes of waiting and watching mom pace around the room, a nurse called us back. The nurse asked us, well mostly mom, personal information and then what was wrong. My franctic mom, gave her opinion of my breast to the thirty year old, burnette nurse, trying not to cry. The nurse nodded at my mom and asked me if she could see my breast. I hesistated, not wanting to. I looked at mom and she gave me the ok, so I let her. After she was done examning me, she jotted down some nots on her paper, closed up her manilla folder and walked out not saying a word. When my mom was telling the nurse what she thought I had, she kept repeating breast cancer over and over again. Now the thoughts rummaged threw my mind. What if I did? Was it treatable? I never really paid attention to this stuff. After the doctor came into the room, examined my breast, and he said that he would like to take some tests, and walked out. Mom called my dad and asked if he would come by the ER and explanied the situation walking out of the room and down to where god only knows. I laid down on the hospital bed and closed my eyes, trying to escape this nightmare. After a few minutes alone with my thoughts, a nurse came in and walked me down to an examining room, where they gave me a baby blue hospital gown, and in return I gave them my street clothes, when I came out of the bathroom. They led me back to the examination room. After taking pictures and a lot of other things, they led me to another room where a nurse did another check up on me and left saying goodbye. My first goodbye here in this hospital by a young, blond, female intern. I laid down on the hospital bed, praying for the good. When all was peace and quiet and I was regaining courage my mom came in, behind her was my dad. Then, you know what happens next, the doc comes in, they go over to a corner in the room, the doctor whispers about something and it all went down hill from there. I tried to block out the crying and the screaming, when I couldn't I got up and hurried to the bathroom down the hall, to cry.
    The next morning, I woke up with the sun rise. It was 5:00 a.m. and I didn't try to go back to sleep, cause my mind was already full of thoughts. I got out of my twin-sized bed and went to the bathroom and slowly combed my hair and teeth. I looked at things differently now. I paid attention more to what I was doing and what I was capable of. For instance, I still could move my arm when I wanted it to. After I was done, I spit out the toothpaste and wiped my mouth with a towel. I gripped the sink, wanting to scream. Thinking about some monster eating at my breasts, made me angery and sad knowing I was hopeless and useless to the cause. Looking down at my snow white knuckles I couldn't find the energy to let go of my anger and confusion of why this would happen to me. After a few minutes of just standing there, gripping the sink, I went to my bedroom and I turned on my computer. When it fully loaded up, I popped up my hotmail account and started to type my situation. After the third sentence a tear drop landed on my keyboard. I think I wrote the saddest, most personal letter in my life. Wiping my eyes with my long sleeve shirt, I forwarded it to all of my friends. I took a deep breath and looked at my clock 6:12 a.m. A long day lay ahead of me.
    The next day I went back to the hospital. Back in the ER, it felt like a big hole in my chest. The cancer was real. My own life is ruined just because of a Monday morning! The doctor that I saw two days ago came in. "Hello, Miss Bebelheimer." he said, getting the pronunciation wrong, like everyone else. The doctor plopped down the manilla folder full of papers on the counter, and let out a sigh. He sat on a stool and looked at me trying to think of something that I would understand.
    "Ok, I'm just going to be blunt," The doctor began. "Your going to die approximatly by the end of this week." My jaw dropped in astonishment. I just felt like the world just slipped beneath my feet. My heart felt like it was ripped out of my chest. I didn't notice that the doctor had a cup of water waiting for me. My breathing was heavy. I couldn't think straight. I needed to lie down. I laid my head between my legs, my hands placed on top of my head, my arms covering my head and face, and cried.
    "I'm sorry. I'll let your family visit you when they get here." The doctor said. My mom went to Turkey Hill and dad was up at his mom's taking out the ashes. I was alone. Lonely of the world. I would miss my friends and they would miss me. How would I die? How many wires and needles would go into my body before I die?" What's going to happen to the rest of the worled when I'm gone?
    What the doctor, Kait, and everyone else didn't know is that someone screwed up. Kait didn't die in a week. She died with her head between her legs, arms and hands covering her face, wetness on her cheek. She died three days after she found out that she had breast cancer.