Always being seen as a quiet, good girl by her parents, Mickie wants to be known as something more edgy! She’s been acting different towards everyone and Keke’s worried that her behavior might lead to something else. Something bad. As the story continues, secrets about Mickie are being revealed and when they come out, things won’t ever be the same.


1. Prologue

(MICKIE POV) I just left the doctor's office. I haven't been feeling well for a while now so I decided to drive down to the clinic to get checked out. Dr. Huggens said I should go to a hospital and get checked out by another doctor. He didn't want to give me bad news about my health but thinks it's something serious that he can't identify due to the utensils he has to work with. "Mickie," Keke says, snapping me from mt thought. "It'll be alright. I go with you tomorrow." I sighed. "No! You have to work to help your mom pay the rent. I know I'll be okay. I hope." I spoke into the phone. "I just can't tell my parents that something seriously bad is happening to my body." I said. "I've been sleepy and having problems breathing and stuff like that." I frowned at the thought. "Do you want me to tell your folks?" She asked. "No!" I quickly responded. If my parents knew there was something wrong with me, they'd freak or jump to conclusions! "They'll freak. I'll just wait until I know for sure what's going on." I heard her sigh. "Okay, baby cakes. Just be sure to all me when you find out." "Okay. I promise. I'll call you back. I see cops coming and you know how we can't be on the phone while driving." I joked. She chuckled. "Yeah. Call later. Drive safely. Muahs." She kissed through the phone and giggled. "Bye, little mama." I said, hanging up and throwing my phone in the passengers seat. I decided to stop by the 7/11 and get some Sour Power Straws and a Coca Cola Slurpee mixed with Cherry. "Four twenty seven." The cashier said. I paid and left the store and sat in my car. What if I had something to worry about? What would I tell my parents? I doubt pregnancy was an option because my rape happened January of last year. It was October 25 right now. Regardless, I'm still scared. I know of signs of depression and pregnancies and cancer. I was hoping I didn't have cancer! It runs in the family which is more reasons to believe I have it. But I'm too young? Right? I sighed and wiped away the tears that fell from my eyes. I didn't want to believe that I possibly had cancer. I didn't want to believe that I could possibly die soon . . . Or that I'd have to go through different types of therapy and everything else that'll have negative affects on my body either way I go. I mostly didn't want to imagine how everyone would react. I threw my keys on the kitchen counter and went to my room. I flopped on the bed and kicked my shoes off. I sighed and closed my eyes for a five minute nap. "Mickie," my mother forcefully shook me awake. "Huh?" I groaned. "Keke's here. Wake up." She said. I sighed and sat upright. "She says she has something to tell you. Said it's important." I nodded and stretched my arms. She left the room and let Keke enter. I stood to hug her before sitting back on my bed. "What's up?" I asked examining her clothing. She was still in her work clothes, which was khakis and a red shirt that she wore for Target. "Just got off work?" I asked. "You know it. But I wanted to say that no matter what time doctor tells you tomorrow, I'll always be with you no matter! I'll look at you the same and everything else. I won't judge and I'll help you through this." She rushed through her sentences. She always did that when something bad happened or was going to happen. She'd feel guilty even though she had nothing to deal with it. It made me feel eveb worse to know if something bad were to ever happen, it would eat her inside out. "Keke!" I stopped her mid-sentence. "Stop feeling bad." I chuckled. "I'll be fine and everything. Trust me." I smiled. A long silence fell on us. It was pretty awkward. I couldn't help but think of how the doctor's word can affect her whole behavior. I didn't even know what was wrong yet but she was still scared. I slightly chuckled at the thought but felt guilty quickly afterwards. I shook my head clear of the thoughts and wiped my tears. "Thanks for being a good friend." I hugged Keke as she broke down in my arms. I knew one thing. Whether or not I was fine, I knew Keke would be there with me throughout it all. It's been three hours and I was still waiting in the waiting area at the hospital. The silence was dreadful. Doctors walked back and forth looking over papers. Patients came in and out. Families left either smiling, silent, or crying their eyes out. I hated hospitals. No good news ever came from hospitals, ever. I always heard of someone dying in them and knowing the mere fact that I could be one of the many corpses downstairs in the morgue getting an autopsy made me squirm in my hard and uncomfortable seat. No matter how hard I tried to rid my stubborn mind of the thought of death, it always found a way to appear. You can't blame me though. My mind was a jungle of emotions, running back and forth in my brain. It was pretty random actually. "Don't like hospitals?" A pregnant lady who sat next to me asked. I nodded at bit my lower lip, a habit I had for when I was nervous. I wished I wasn't such a wimp but then again, the way Keke responded to the thought of something being wrong with me made me even more nervous because I'd feel guilty if she did something because of me. I took the time to examine me surroundings. A pregnant lady next to me breathing in and out. Possibly six or seven months far. A crying kid with a possibly broken arm. A little girl, maybe seven or eight, will a rash on her stomach. A newborn baby in a stroller sleeping peacefully. A man with a motorcycle helmet sat across from me. I think he was waiting for the results of his friend who was rushed past on a gurney a few minutes before. I closed my eyes slowly and took a breath, held it, and finally exhaled. The smell of hospitals made me queasy but I needed something to do and bringing a book along was the last thing on my mind. I noticed Dr. Huggens talking to the secretary at the front desk while flipping through papers. He was mid-aged with a few streaks of grey hairs at the side of his head. Looked like the models for Just For Men hair dye boxes. He was tall and husky but not fat. His voice was stern but friendly. "Mickie," he said as he turned to see me looking him over. "You're here on time I see." He looked over his watch. "A little early actually." He chuckled. I laughed slightly and responded. "I hate waiting long after due time." "Oh? How long have you been waiting this time?" "It's been three hours." I sighed. He sighed as well and turned back to the secretary. She nodded as he talked under his breath to her. She dialed in the phone in front of her. He motioned for me to follow him. I followed to a room and sat on the bed. "Dr. Garnett will be in shortly." He said, walking for the door. "Sir," I blurted. He turned to face me. "Don't you work at a clinic? Why are you here?" "I have two jobs to pay for my divorce." He said. I froze. I had no idea. Now I felt guilty! I put his business out and he was probably feeling like crap! "I'm so sorry." I looked down to my feet. He chuckled. "Don't sweat it, kid. My wife and I just could not work out our problems. Thing's will turn out for the better soon." I liked seeing Dr. Huggens. He always found a reason to smile. He wasn't even religious but he still found a way to make death seem great if things weren't good. I know, it's weird to hear. I waited in an awkward silence for my doctor to come. When my doctor finally came, there was another awkward silence. It was a female! Nothing sexist again females but I really did not expect a woman to be caring for me. I was releaved because if anything, it'd be nothing she's never seen before -- nudely related, I mean. That way, I won't feel awkward if she examines any part of me like I would if a male were to look me over. I'm only eighteen and I wasn't really looking forward to having ANOTHER man look at my nude body -- or should I say man and boy. Did you catch that? Man and boy? ANOTHER? Yeah, because January of last year was a dreadful month. That whole year was. What happened was I was raped by a teacher at my old school. Cliché? Not really. He was a registered child molester. How he was able to teach again is a mystery to me but he purposely failed me just so I was forced into going to extra help after hours with him. It was worse because his class, along with two others and the detention room, was in the basement of the school. So, along with cold concrete floors, a few cobwebs here and there, and a dark room with only ceiling lights and no windows, the room became the creepiest place to be after school. It just so happens, I was touched and violated in that very room. If that doesn't top anything, my screams were unheard by anyone. I now think back to the events leading to the rape. The winks and stares he gave me. The stalking. The rides home he offered but I always refused. The fact that I had the same answers as my best friend and other kids in the class but always received a 65 or lower on graded material. I just wish I was smart enough to realize this before. He practically led me to believe I was stupid just to prove a psychotic theory that teenage girls aren't capable of putting tiny pieces of actual puzzles together even if their safety possibly depended on it! What kind if world am I living in? "Ma'am?" Dr. Garnett interrupted me from my horrible thought. I hadn't realized that I was shaking in my seat or that I practically bit my nail on my index finger to the core. "Y-yes?" I answered, getting my train of thought together. "Are you okay?" She said, touching my forehead to check for fever. "Yes." I lied. "Fine." "Well," she said, "I need you to take of your shirt and put this gown over your top. You're going in for a ct scan." "What's that?" "It's like a gigantic X-ray but helps us know if you have cancer or not. Helps us detect where the tumor is." She explained. I plainly nodded and did as told while she left the room for a few moments. My phone lit up to reveal a text from Keke: *From Keke♥: What's the happs?* I smiled and thumbed a response: *To Keke♥: Going For A CT Scan . Talk Later , Babess ! "/* Dr. Garnett finally returned and got a pen from her drawer. "Ready?" She asked as a nurse wheeled in a wheelchair. I nodded. As we began leaving, my phone lit up. "No phones." Dr. Garnett said. "Can affect the waves." I nodded and quickly checked the message. *From Keke♥: KK. Good luck boobiee!♥* I smiled and tossed my phone to the bed and left the room. My brain juggled thoughts back and forth as anxiety took over. What if I had cancer? Hopefully, things balanced on Keke's text and I received good news to match the good luck text, because my life, honestly, is anything but luck. I was out the hospital for three days so far. I have a follow up exam every Friday just to test my progress. Apparently, I have stage one of breast cancer and I'll have to do some testing. I haven't told my parents or Keke yet. Keke's asked a few times but I'd change the subject. I think she's caught on by now but I don't want to see how she'll respond with me telling her. My parents are completely clueless to what's going on and I am quite disappointed that they haven't realized the small facts such as my change in attitude, my depression, or the fact I've left home and school lately and wouldn't come home for a while. "Mickie!" Keke barged into my room in full out tears. She's probably here to talk about what's wrong with me. "Yeah?" I plainly answered her. She grimaced and sighed. She scowled at me and fell on my bed. "I think I know what's wrong with you! They found a tumor?" She sounded more like it was a question than a statement. I just shrugged. "Don't do this to me Mickie!" She demanded, "Tell me what's wrong! It's eating me up because you're so freaking depressed and I don't know what I can do or say to help. "Nothing you can do!" I yelled. I didn't mean for it to come out so harsh. "All you want to do is help! You can't help! I'm completely fine. Death happens so I'll be fine. I'm ready to die." I shrugged. She gaped and took a few steps back from the bed. "You're lying." I shook my head and fell back. She huffed. "Stop talking like that, Mickie! I don't like it." I shrugged. "How am I supposed to talk? I have cancer." I finally spat. "FINALLY!" She yelled. "Finally you confess to cancer." She stopped talking. "Y-you h-have c-c-cancer." I sighed, shrugged, and stood. Keke's head was buried in her hands. She was sobbing on the floor. I made my way to her and wrapped my arms around her. She buried her face in my shirt and cried. It was at this moment that my life fell apart and all my secrets started coming out of the bag. This is my story of how cancer changed my life for the worse.
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