Miracles Happen

Hope is just your average girl. She never wanted this sickness... She never truly believe in love... And now that she is going to encounter more things in life that she's never dreamed of the only question is this: How is she going to handle it?


1. Chapter 1

Well chapter one is up. Hope you like :) ~S


I didn't want to be diagnosed with cancer. That was definitely not my intention. But what can you do? These things come and go all the time. It doesn't run in my family.


I'm the first one that I know of, that has ever had cancer in my family.

Fuck my life.

Ok. I'm being rude. My Mom always told me to introduce myself before I start to tell a story.

Or before swearing.

My name is Hope. Yeah, you might say that I'm just saying that because you figured out this story I'm about to tell is about, well, hope. No. My Mother and Father literally named me Hope. Hope Rodriguez.

When I first heard the doctor say I was diagnosed, I went through a flash back through my life. It was so scary, I think a almost pissed my pants.

Luckily, that was not the case.

What do people think when someone says cancer? The first thing they would probably think is something like this: "Cancer is horrible!" or "Being sick is awful." or "You can die from cancer." In some cases, yeah, that can happen. But think again, people have actually beaten it. Can you name someone? No? Well, I am a survivor.

But there's more to my story that you won't understand just yet.

"Cancer? Are you serious? Can't we do something else Mrs. Williams?" Tara says during health class. What a snob.

"Tara, why can't you have a heart? There are people out there battling cancer right now and you are complaining about just learning it? Come on." She eyed me down as if I was merely a piece of chewed gum on the street.

Tara looked like she was a descendent of the world's prettiest super model. With her long dark hair over one shoulder. Her perfect teeth and complexion. Her stormy gray eyes. Sometimes I reluctantly envied her for it because all I have is shoulder length brown hair and honey brown eyes.

Basically another child gone wrong.

"Hope is right, Tara. Have some consideration. How would you like to start reading the passage?"

"Fine." She said this as if this was a death sentence. The drama, honestly.

The story we were reading were all short, no more than 10 pages long. I'm not really much of a reader, but if the book is really good, I'll give it some of my time.

The one we read today was about a girl battling breast cancer. It was a pretty sad story; she had to endure a lot of therapy and many surgeries. It explains how she felt she belonged to a whole new world. A world that might take her on more adventures to come. But then the last page stated that she lost her fight at 2:30 in the morning at fourteen years of age. Three years younger than I was.

Wow. She barely lived. I wondered what she could have been in a future. A doctor? A real estate agent? A chef? She had a family, friends, someone she may have loved... In someways, this was too hard to bare.

When Tara finished reading a hand shot up. Of course, it was my best friend Michael. The-dare i say it- "smartest" one in our class. But to be honest, MANY people in our school knew who he was and appreciated him. He joined every sport, club and event and he was always on top of his grades. It kind of pissed me off how good he was.

He had dark brown hair and turquoise eyes, so sometimes it will look green in the morning and like a dark blue in the evening. Before we became best friends, I had a slightly liked him. He and I were new to the elementary school back then, so we always hung out-until everyone started to learn his name. So I had ditched my feelings and stuck to something easier. Friendship.

Tara was also known to the student body-but for all more dramatic reasons. For some reason, just as much as Michael, everyone wanted to be her friend, boyfriend, personal slave (well that part doesn't count for him) etc.

Tara has a crush on Michael since high school started-we'd been unfortunate to meet her here-and he's trying to do his best to get rid of her since.

"Did that girl in the story really want to share what she been through to the world? I mean, if I had cancer, I wouldn't really be up for telling the world my business." Michael said.

"Props for that one, Bro!" He is also the captain of our school football team, the Black Ravens, as well as many other teams, too. They bumped knuckles and started to chuckle. I shook my head in Michaels direction. Immature. He smiled at shrugged his shoulders.

"Well Michael," Mrs. Williams explained. "I am pretty sure that if she didn't want to be published, she would say so. It's pretty cruel to just publish someones story like that even when they've told you not too. I believe this girl was trying to set an example for everyone, young and old, with or without cancer. Can anybody figure out with this message is?" Then, she turns to me as if I knew the answer to everything. "Hope?"

"Uh Mrs., are you sure you don't want Michael to answer this one?" She gave me a look and I heard Tara and her friends snicker in the back. Jesus. I sighed. "Uh... Well I don't know. Is she trying to say to never stop trying and believe in yourself and everything you do?" I could still hear Tara snickering behind me. I was about to turn around a say something snappy when I caught Michaels eye. He made a slicing motion by his neck and looked toward Mrs. Williams, who was watching me. I rolled my eyes and swiveled in my chair to face the front.

"Well, I believe that was the message too, Hope. Thank you." She stares into my soul for a few minutes before she finally turned to the class.

"Okay, class. Your homework is to write an essay for this story. I want you to choose a connection you can make and write it down. And if you can't relate, state what you think about this story. Everyone this essay, yes Collin, an essay, has to be 2000 words or more and this is 45% of your health and language mark." Collin was the one who called Michael "Bro." "I'm giving you two months to do this. Why? Because you are getting more essays between now and the due date which will be... Today's the 1st of March right? Yes it is. So this will be due the last day of school. The 31st of May. Understood?"

There was a murmur of noise which sounded somewhat like a yes.

"Ok. Class dismissed."

When bell rang, I cursed under my breath. I always hated the bell. It was a rusty, noisy piece of crap.

"Stupid bell." I mutter out loud.

Michael catches up with me. "Hey! Nice save back there and I still don't know what Tara's problem is with you."

"Yeah, well that makes two of us." I sighed. "Pretty girls always have the problems."

"But...you're pretty."

I look at him. "And you're delusional." He faked hurt and I punched him in the arm. "Thanks."

We stop at our lockers. "Don't get too caught up in that beauty stuff. It's not you."

I whistle at the thought. "Says the one who has a whole bunch of Tara groupies following him around."

"Hey! I can't help it that people think I'm sexy." He said, flexing his so called muscles. I would have laughed at that, but right now, there is no space for laughing.

I grunted. "Can we change the subject? What am I going to do for that essay? I don't have any connections and you heard me in class today! I wasn't able to share many ideas about the subject. How am I supposed to do an essay of 2000 words if I can't even do 20?" Now I was starting to shake his shoulders. "What the hell am I going to do?!"

"Hope. Chill, ok? We'll figure it out. Don't worry. I had a few older relatives who had cancer. You can use one of them. Problem solved."

He didn't get it did he. "I can't do someone from your history! I have to make my own connection from my life." I sighed outwardly. Sighing. I did a lot of that. "I'll figure out something. But if I do get desperate, I'll come to you ok?"

He gave me a reassuring smile. "Sure. So you got math class in a few minutes right? You finished all your homework?"

"Yeah, luckily I don't have another problems on my hands other than the one."

I was just about close my locker until the last person I wanted to see right now walked up to me. "Hello." Taras voice said smoothly.

I looked at Michael. "I take it back." He gave a sly smile and shrugged.

"What kind of name is Hope anyways? Isn't that a slut name? You think her Mother would know that. Unless..." Her crew went into a rage of laughter.

That wasn't even funny. "Wow Tara, you've got a lot of nerve to go and insult me and my own Mother to my face."

Michael, sensing a fight, said, "Hey, leave Hope alone guys. She was one of your friends you know."

He said this while eying my old friends, Tia and Michelle, who went into an awkward silence. Presenting my ex-best friends.

Tara shook them out of the guilt. "Well I'm not dumpster girl's friend. But," Her piercing eyes traveled to Michaels soft ones. "I am your friend Michael. How are you?" Tara pushed me out of the way and I bit my tongue before something foul came out. "My friends and I are going to the café down the street, you know, to skip history." The skank had the same history class as him. "As if I'm going to use it in the future anyways."

"That's because you'll be in jail by then. Or even better, on the streets." I mutter under my breath.

But Tara doesn't hear. Michael does, and tries not to laugh out loud. "So I was wandering if you want to come with us. You probably don't need history in the future either. So what do you say?" She starts twisting her finger in a lock of hair.

"Sorry Tara, I've got better things to do." He starts walking away, looking at me with the expression that told me we'll be talking later.

I smile.

But the smile melts when I see Tara still standing there, smirking, again.

"Sick of being single?" she asks snidely.

"Sick of being a bitch?" I retort back.

She giggles. "Please, we all know who that is."

I roll my eyes at her lame insult. "Look, Michael and I are just friends okay? Lay off."

But she wasn't finished yet. "So then you don't mind me taking him from you then?"

I laugh at loud. I applaud her for her WONDERFUL SPIRIT. "Yeah, like that will ever happen. If it ever did happen, that will be the same day when Michael checks into a mental hospital."

She scowled at me. "You don't have to be such a-"

I turned toward to face her. I really hated when people called me a bitch. And she knew it, judging by her growing smug smile that was creeping on her face. "Look, I would really appreciate it if my point of view right now is not your face. Just please leave us alone."

I slammed my book locker shut and push past Tara and her "clique" just as the bell rings. Perfect. Just peachy. I was late for class.

Not looking back at my enemies, I run down the hall to next period.

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