Fight Back

Date: 15th October 2014. Weight: 8st 6lbs. Stage: In limbo. Estimated time of survival: My bloods are in. .

Looking at my body in the changing rooms, I think I'm losing a little weight. I don't mind losing some weight, it saves dieting. But I don't want this to mean the Infirma is getting worse. I look at all of the girls around me and I can't deny that I'm slightly jealous. I normally get changed in the shower cubicles. My arms and legs have scars and bruises from all the treatments they've tried on me. But I'm at the point when I don't actually care any more. I didn't want them to find out my secret, obviously. But I don't care if they talk.
I tied back the rat tails and headed outside. The downside of gym is that the girls and the boys have to mix. It used to mean fussing over my hair because the boys were watching, now I was just annoyed that I might be forced to work with Mike again.
I walked away from the others and found somewhere to sit on alone. Then I watched someone's stupid fake running shoes stand in front of me.
“Dread head." Mike said airily.
“Go away.” I spat without even looking up.
“Not happy to see the man of your lustful desires?” he asked. The arrogance was reeking from him.
“Don't flatter yourself.”
“Don't say that you've never dreamt of me, Dread."
“Yes, it was a nightmare.” I retorted and heard him chuckle.
“Come on. I've been wondering about you,” he said and I looked up. “I want to know what brave man messed you up and left you so bitter.”
“For a moment I actually thought you were being genuine.” I mocked and stood to face him.
“I don't act genuine to people who act fake.”
“I am not fake." I hissed.
“You are, it's like your made of paper."
“Not." I snapped back.
“Anyway, I was thinking-”
“-Dangerous.” I cut in.
“Excuse me?” Mike asked coldly.
“You shouldn't stretch it the first time, you may cause some permanent damage.” I replied nastily.
"All these biting comments to make your existence seem more bearable. Its like your set on me becoming an idiot.”
“I'm more implying it.”
“You're implying I'm an idiot?” he asked heatedly.
"Not the words I would have used."
“And what would you have used, Dread?”
“Stupid!”
“What?!” he exclaimed angrily.
“Stu-pid! Sound it out, you'll get there in the end.”
“You really are a cold, horrible person.” he said darkly and I laughed. I turned and walked over to Mr Taylor.
“That stung!” I called over my shoulder and heard him growl behind me.
“Okay!” Mr Taylor called. “Just some simple cross country for a warm up, as fast as you can around the court!” he yelled and everyone started off. I went to run with them – hopefully away from Mike – but Mr Taylor pulled me aside.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I spoke to Mrs Stow, Mr Green is concerned that you will exert yourself during in gym.”
“I'm not sitting out.” I said flatly and saw him frown. I couldn't sit out, it was like waving a sign to Mike saying 'She's weak, please do stab her with your words!'
“Okay, just take it easy.” he said and nodded, sending me away. I jogged over to the court and saw Mike whisper something to Vic then them both look at me.
“Don't exert yourself, Sweetheart!” Mike yelled. I felt my blood boil. He didn't even know and he could do this to me. I decided to run as fast as I could. Screw Phil, he didn't know what I had to go through!
So I ran until my legs went from shaky to a dangerous numb, just to prove them wrong. It was stupid and I only started to panic when I started to feel dizzy. That was when my legs gave way. I dropped heavily to the ground and saw the figures all rush around me. But they were hazy and dark. I heard distant voices that soon faded into nothing. That was when I passed out.

I watched Alex from his bed. He looked beautiful. His blonde hair ruffled, his eyelashes light and long, 'opening up' his blue eyes as Mom had put it. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't jealous of him. My beautiful brother. Of course I was, he was stunning.
“How do I look?” he asked me self-consciously.
“Great.” I told him.
“You don't think the jacket is too long.” he asked nervously. The black tux he wore made him look like James Bond.
“You look fantastic.” I assured him and he smiled widely.
“Do you really think so?” Alex blushed.
“Of course, Alex. Come on, you'll be late." I grinned. One of the richer students was having a party for their year and the dress code was formal, much to Alex's dismay.
I took his hand and led him to the landing at the top of the stairs. I hugged him tightly for a minute and felt him sway in my arms. I looked up and saw he was distant.
“Alex?" I asked cautiously.
“I'm . . . I feel . . a little dizzy,” he said weakly and brought a tanned hand to his head. “All of a sudden.”
“Shall I get Dad?” I asked urgently.
“No, I'll be fine." he brushed me away and touched the handrail gently. He stepped tentatively on the first step. He brought the hand up to his head. Then it was like his legs collapsed from underneath him, like they were made of the jello Mom used to make before Alex was diagnosed. He tumbled heavily down the stairs until he banged his head on the tiles in the entry hall. There was nothing I could do and it hurt, nearly as much as Alex was hurting now.
“ALEX!" I screamed as loud as I could and I watched my parents rush into the hall. Thank God Sasha was at Aunt Hilda's tonight.
By the time I reached him I was crying. It wasn't hard crying, but still crying. Then I saw the blood that was seeping from his head and shoulders. I watched as his pretty eyes rolled into the back of his head.
“JENNY! Ring an ambulance!” Dad screamed at Mom and she ran quickly. Dad took off his shirt and pressed it to Alex's head to try and control the blood flow. “Ring Dr Tree!" Dad yelled at me and pressed his cell phone into my hands.
I rang Dr Tree and he said he'd meet us at the hospital. But now I was terrified. I took off my jacket and gave it to my Dad, to try and help my brother live. He took it and pressed it with bloody hands to Alex’s head.
Then we heard Mom crying in the living room. She was hysterical, too much so to talk on the phone.
“I'm going to talk to them, I need you to keep applying pressure.” Dad told me calmly and I took his position. My hands pressed against the make shift bandages we'd created and I wished more than anything that I could just make him better. Not just his head but everything, the Infirma.
I'm thirteen years old, but here I am with my brother's blood on my hands. I wanted it to all go away. That would be my one wish, to make Alex better again.

My eyes felt like they were lined with lead. It was hard just to flutter them open slightly. But I did, because I could hear voices. One of them had to be Phil's, but the other was distant, like I was listening to it through a cell phone with a bad connection. When I looked up I saw Phil sitting in a chair opposite me. Then I looked where I was. I was lying in my bed in my bedroom.
“How are you feeling?” he asked urgently and rushed to me.
“Tired." I yawned.
“That's normal. Are you experiencing any headaches, sickness, or dizziness?” Phil asked and I shook my head. “You feel fine?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I laughed.
“Try sitting up, Pippa." he told me and took my hand while I slung my legs over the side of the bed. “I want you to just sit on the edge of the bed.” he told me, but I ignored him and stood up. He frowned at me, but then smiled when he saw I was steady on my feet.
“I'm fine,” I reassured him. I walked to the chair he had been sitting in and eased myself down gently. Once I was settled I saw him glare angrily.
“What on earth were you doing, Pippa?!" Phil demanded.
“What?” I asked nervously.
“What?!” he exclaimed. “I tell you not to exert yourself. I thought you'd be at least cautious after your blood tests, and how things have played out, it was really dangerous.”
“How have things played out?” I suddenly questioned.
“I didn't mean that.” he countered quickly. I looked at him for a minute and he shifted under my gaze.
“You're lying,” I said softly. “You know something, don't you, Phil?” I asked and he hesitated. There was a long pause before he nodded.
“We've been doing some research,” Phil said. “The blood test we took, along with more recent ones and your other symptoms tell us something."
“Tell you what?” I questioned and noticed he looked more than nervous, he looked sad.
“You're in a certain state of the disorder now and we can't reverse it. You passing out today was proof for what we already knew really. But it makes things clearer,” he said and sighed deeply, trying to compose himself. “I can't tell you this,” he growled and put his head back for a while. "You're my most important patient. The most important person in my life right now."
“Just tell me.” I whispered through tears.
Before he said it, I guess I already knew deep down. “You're dying, Pippa. And you don't have the three years I promised.”
“How long?” I demanded.
“Pippa." he tried, tears in his eyes too.
“Two years?”
“If you halved that I would have thought you were being hopeful."
“How long?” I asked again.
“There’s nothing I can do. Nothing will help prolong things." he said desperately.
“How long, Phil?”
“March. Five months.” he said barely moving his lips.
“No!” I screamed. “There's something we can do!” I yelled.
“Pippa."
“Pills? Therapy? Anything?” I asked desperately.
“We've tried that, the pills don't work for you, you don't respond. And as for the therapies, I'm so so sorry Pippa, but it's too late. It's too late and it's my damn fault.”
“Five months.” I echoed and pulled at my hideous hair. I rested my head in my hands and that was when I really broke down. I just couldn't hold it in any longer. I cried hard and the tears rolled into my mouth as I sobbed uncontrollably.
“Pippa." Phil said, his voice raw. He stepped forwards and hugged me tightly, like he was scared I might disappear.
I felt that he was crying hard too. To know that in five months time I won't be here any more is absolutely heartbreaking. I pressed myself closer to him and I just cried. I had no control, I was going to die and there was nothing me or anyone else could do to stop it. So I just cried.
Note to self - Estimated time of survival: Five months.

Notes

Hey! What did you think? What about Mikes relationship with Helena? Helena is dying! How do you feel? What will happen? Five months left! :)