To Die is to truly live

When Belle receives the news a brain tumour will cut her life short in 3 months it rips her world apart. When everyone else seems to desert her she finds comfort in a stranger who may be exactly the kind of medicine she needs. My entry for the fault in our stars fanfiction competition.


2. A bump in my short road

~~“3 months?” my mum repeats in a whisper to the doctor sat in front of us. She stares at the floor then at me and back to the floor again “3 months,” she says again and her hand trembles on her lap. I just sit stiffly in my chair with my lips glued together. I don’t think the news has settled into my head properly yet, I could blame the drugs but I think it’s down to the fact that I just can’t accept that it’s the truth.
You see it happen endless times in movies. When the characters are told they only have a few months to live at least they do something, cry, scream, punch something. I however just feel numb and I sit here like a robot. “Isn’t there anything you can do? Drugs or surgery?” my dad demands from behind me, his fist is wrapped tightly round the back of my seat and his mouth is set in a hard, tense line. “Well there’re a few procedures we could try but they’d be risky and could cause Belle a lot of pain,” he doctor explains calmly. I wonder how many times he’s had to do this, tell someone they’re going to die. “Well, why aren’t you doing it then?” dad says through a few deep breaths. I look over at my mother worriedly. “Harry I don’t think now is the best…” she starts to say.
“No, we can’t put this off. The sooner they can treat her the better,” Dad interrupts her and stares at the doctor expectantly. “I think the best option for now is to go home and talk about it. Let the news settle in. I know it’s hard but it’s important you give Belle all the support you can” The doctor says and turns his soft eyes on me. “Honey, you’re being very brave and I just want to let you know that there’s lots of different support options for you. The choice is yours to what you want to do.” I nod and try to swallow but my mouth is dry.
“Is that it? That’s a lode of bullshit, my daughter’s 16 for god’s sake. You’d think with all this modern medicine you would be able to do something,” my dad spits at the doctor his eyes full of desperation and anger. “Harry, we need to sort this out at home. Belle doesn’t need this as well,” mum hisses at him and my father closes is mouth and nods but he’s still glaring at the doctor.
“Here’s some leaflets of the possible options of care for you, don’t hesitate to phone and asks questions. As I said to your father just now there’re other options but I think it’s best you think about it before you make decisions, drugs have side effects you may not like and they’ll only prolong your life for and extra month or 2.” I nod along to his words but don’t really take them in. All I can think about is the pain in my head. The one that’s been there for months and I’ve just dismissed as a bad head ache, the one that means I have cancer. The one that means I’m going to die.
“Thank you for your help Mr Richards,” mum says then shakes his hand. My dad marches over to the door and yanks it open and I follow my mother out of the room. Don’t worry, I think, I haven’t seen the last of this place.

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