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Description
Today

Today I tried to forget what’s happening to me, what’s going to be happening for a long time, because I feel sick when I think of it, so sick I crossed out the word cancer from the book I was reading, so sick I squeezed t’s tanned hand tight.

His cupcake breath hitting my cheek as he exhaled, our chests falling at exactly the same time, my hand on top of his on my stomach.
Cancer is everywhere now I have it, it coats walls and drips from ceilings, hangs in the air, I smell it on people’s breath, I see it in people’s eyes. I feel it every time I ache.

I sit in the day room at the hospital, Jade Goody on the front cover of OK

She’s dead

A board outside the newsagents shouts cancer, printed harsh Black-on-White

The book dad gave to me to read in hospital “The curious incident of the dog in the night time”

Reminds me with the first page

It was 7 minutes after midnight. The dog was lying on the grass in the middle of the lawn in front of Mrs Shears’ house. Its eyes were closed. It looked as if it were running on its side, the way dogs run when they think they are chasing a cat in their dream. But the dog was not running or asleep. The dog was dead. There was a garden fork sticking out of the dog. The points of the fork must have gone all the way through the dog and into the ground because the garden fork had not fallen over. I decided that the dog was probably killed with the fork because I could not see any other wounds in the dog and I do not think that you would stick a garden dork into a dog after it had died for some reason, like cancer for example, or a road accident.
-
A woman poisoned with it walks past my front window

I can tell straight away because she has no hair and she looks like she wants to kill herself

I’ve thought about it

I told t not to catch me if I fell on the stairs. He said he would. He doesn’t want me to die.

He said “It’s impossible to drown yourself, you know” while he was talking to me and e, but that was the only bit I listened to.

I know it’s impossible

You can’t hold yourself down under the water, you panic

Everything is about cancer now
Selfish

My friends aren’t selfish though.

I’ve got so many presents.

N brought round a card from my tutor group; it was very cute, impossibly huge too.

She’s a sweetie, cute as a button, not that I should compare her to a button, she hates textiles. Her hair falls nicely and she laughs nice. English teachers hate the word nice. Sometimes it’s the best word in the world.

W handed me a toblerone, and immediately made me think of t.

She’s tall, tall, tall. She fancies people she’s too scared to say hello to, people who pass her in the corridor without their heart skipping a beat, they just don’t know.

T gave me his t shirt; he says it’s one of his favourites.

He’s perfect. He really is.

My grandmother, the one who never liked me, hands me a bar of chocolate, the type she thinks I like.

She makes a stupid joke over lunch with me best friends. No one laughs.

A friend of my mum comes in to give me and my sister a bag of presents, one for everyday of the week, some little extras too.

I’ve eaten all the strawberry millions.

                                         I’ve opened Monday’s present.

                                                               It’s a cuddle-soft scarf.

She’s gorgeous, she strides with dark hair bouncing above her shoulders, cheeks glowing like a mother-to-be and bright eyes like a teenager in love.

N had bought me some underwear, pants, they’re god damn adorable.  She tells me her boyfriend chose them.
-
I standd in front of my mirror in my new underwear, avoiding staring into my eyes because I knew they’d fill up with tears and overflow, like the bath when I forget about it. I’d cry because I’m worried people will forget about me.

My stomach looks flat in front of the mirror, there’s a red mark about 8 centimetres long across my belly button, it’s because I slouch so much. I spend too much time lying in arms falling in love.

A’s is so much flatter than mine though. She clasps it and sighs “I’m so fat” occasionally. After eating supper, or trying on a tiny dress in a dressing room in town.

Dressing rooms are so terrible.
All the mirrors, you can see yourself from every angle, see how everyone else see’s you.

I wonder how they’ll see me after each hair on my body falls out.

It’s disgusting.

Description
Today

Today I tried to forget what’s happening to me, what’s going to be happening for a long time, because I feel sick when I think of it, so sick I crossed out the word cancer from the book I was reading, so sick I squeezed t’s tanned hand tight.

His cupcake breath hitting my cheek as he exhaled, our chests falling at exactly the same time, my hand on top of his on my stomach.
Cancer is everywhere now I have it, it coats walls and drips from ceilings, hangs in the air, I smell it on people’s breath, I see it in people’s eyes. I feel it every time I ache.

I sit in the day room at the hospital, Jade Goody on the front cover of OK

She’s dead

A board outside the newsagents shouts cancer, printed harsh Black-on-White

The book dad gave to me to read in hospital “The curious incident of the dog in the night time”

Reminds me with the first page

It was 7 minutes after midnight. The dog was lying on the grass in the middle of the lawn in front of Mrs Shears’ house. Its eyes were closed. It looked as if it were running on its side, the way dogs run when they think they are chasing a cat in their dream. But the dog was not running or asleep. The dog was dead. There was a garden fork sticking out of the dog. The points of the fork must have gone all the way through the dog and into the ground because the garden fork had not fallen over. I decided that the dog was probably killed with the fork because I could not see any other wounds in the dog and I do not think that you would stick a garden dork into a dog after it had died for some reason, like cancer for example, or a road accident.
-
A woman poisoned with it walks past my front window

I can tell straight away because she has no hair and she looks like she wants to kill herself

I’ve thought about it

I told t not to catch me if I fell on the stairs. He said he would. He doesn’t want me to die.

He said “It’s impossible to drown yourself, you know” while he was talking to me and e, but that was the only bit I listened to.

I know it’s impossible

You can’t hold yourself down under the water, you panic

Everything is about cancer now
Selfish

My friends aren’t selfish though.

I’ve got so many presents.

N brought round a card from my tutor group; it was very cute, impossibly huge too.

She’s a sweetie, cute as a button, not that I should compare her to a button, she hates textiles. Her hair falls nicely and she laughs nice. English teachers hate the word nice. Sometimes it’s the best word in the world.

W handed me a toblerone, and immediately made me think of t.

She’s tall, tall, tall. She fancies people she’s too scared to say hello to, people who pass her in the corridor without their heart skipping a beat, they just don’t know.

T gave me his t shirt; he says it’s one of his favourites.

He’s perfect. He really is.

My grandmother, the one who never liked me, hands me a bar of chocolate, the type she thinks I like.

She makes a stupid joke over lunch with me best friends. No one laughs.

A friend of my mum comes in to give me and my sister a bag of presents, one for everyday of the week, some little extras too.

I’ve eaten all the strawberry millions.

                                         I’ve opened Monday’s present.

                                                               It’s a cuddle-soft scarf.

She’s gorgeous, she strides with dark hair bouncing above her shoulders, cheeks glowing like a mother-to-be and bright eyes like a teenager in love.

N had bought me some underwear, pants, they’re god damn adorable.  She tells me her boyfriend chose them.
-
I standd in front of my mirror in my new underwear, avoiding staring into my eyes because I knew they’d fill up with tears and overflow, like the bath when I forget about it. I’d cry because I’m worried people will forget about me.

My stomach looks flat in front of the mirror, there’s a red mark about 8 centimetres long across my belly button, it’s because I slouch so much. I spend too much time lying in arms falling in love.

A’s is so much flatter than mine though. She clasps it and sighs “I’m so fat” occasionally. After eating supper, or trying on a tiny dress in a dressing room in town.

Dressing rooms are so terrible.
All the mirrors, you can see yourself from every angle, see how everyone else see’s you.

I wonder how they’ll see me after each hair on my body falls out.

It’s disgusting.