The Strength To Fight 2

Anna

When I found out about the amputation, I freaked out. My sister was losing her leg. She would never walk again. She would spend the rest of her life a cripple. Sheila and I both started screaming at the same time. My mother was, if possible, even more hysterical than us. She sobbed all night long. After a while I calmed down enough to call Rachel and tell her what was going on. She didn't even know Elizabeth had cancer again, so it was even more of a shock for her.
"Rachel?"
"Yeah?"
"Elizabeth's back in the hospital."
"What? She can't be! The cancer's gone, they said it's gone!"
"It's back."
"Oh. My. God."
"And she's getting her leg cut off."
I heard the sound of someone else picking up the phone.
"Bren--?"
"Rachel? You're on the phone? You need to get off! I need to call--"
"Yeah, okay." she croaked. "Bye, Anna. Call you later."
I hung up, feeling even more hopeless than before. I wished that just this once Rachel's mom could let us have a five minute phone conversation. I sat down on my bed, looking at my messy side of the room in contrast with Elizabeth's immaculate half. A terrible, helpless thought floated into my head.
Why her and not me?
Why was I lying here, and she was lying in a hospital bed? Why had it been her, and not me, who had suddenly had her whole life dissolve around her, found out she could die. In a sudden, startling second, I realized how fragile life really was. One day you could be a happy, healthy teenager. A week later you could be lying in a coffin while some fat preacher wheezes through the twenty third psalm.
I shuddered.

I usually disliked school, but now I wished I had it to occupy me. That night was the most terrible night I'd ever slept through. In a few hours, it would be over. Elizabeth would never have her leg again. I remembered back a few months, to the day I'd found out Elizabeth was coming home unscathed. Unscathed.
Not this time.


Elizabeth

I woke up instinctively as the doctor walked in. From the irritated look on his face, I could tell he had meant to bring me into the operating room without waking me. I suddenly remembered. The Amputation. In two hours, I would only have one leg.
But I would be alive.
The choice: life or limb? A crippled existance, a pretty corpse. I would choose life.
But what kind of life would it be?
I would never walk correctly again. Never run or swim or dance. I wouldn't be able to go into a store or a restaurant without being stared at. I would be dependant on others, a burden on my family. And no leg. Go to sleep whole, wake up a cripple. An icy panic started drowning me as I glanced at the leg I was so close to losing.
"No."
"What?" the doctor asked impatiently. "What do you mean, 'no'?"
"I don't what an amputation."
"Why?" he sounded rather bored, not at all surprised.
"What would be the point in living a life like that, anyway? I'd be so useless, so helpless! Like a baby. I wouldn't be able to stand it! I don't want to live just for the sake of living. What would be the point?"
"I think you will find the point in life. You'd be surprised to learn how meaningful pointless things can be."
"I don't want to be a cripple! I'm fourteen years old, for Christ's sake! I've got cancer! And they're going to chop off my leg! I'll be a helpless burden, never going to go anywhere! It's like being stuck between two rocks, blocking either way! I can't live with my leg, and I can't really live without it either!"
"But you're looking at it the wrong way, Elizabeth. It's not only left or right. You can go straight ahead as well."
"It's not like that! I either have my leg or I don't! I'd have to exist for the sole purpose of being alive! I can't do it!"
"You can."
"I can, maybe, but why! For what!"
"I understand how you're feeling right now. But you--"
"You do NOT understand how I'm feeling. Everyone says that. My mother. My friends. My sisters. And you. But none of you have ever coped with any of it! Ever!"
"Now there I think you'll find you're wrong."
"What?" I asked stupidly.
"I had leukemia when I was fifteen years old. I also lost my leg." he looked sad. "But now is not the time for my life's story. Are you ready for your operation?"
I gaped at him, then slowly nodded.
He and a nurse wheeled me on a portable bed to the operating room. Every second of the way my terror mounted higher in my chest, making breathing difficult. I was going to explode.
I sat up. "No." I said frantically. "No, there has to be another way. It's not fair."
"But it is. It's the only way. Fairness has nothing to do with it."
I lay back down. The mask was going over my face.
"Count slowly backwards from twenty."
Twenty... nineteen... eighteen... what was going on... my leg... oh yeah... they were cutting it off... no... but I had to... wait... counting... where was I... oh yeah, seventeen... sixteen... fifteen... fourteen... my leg..... count...... thirteen........ what came next.......... eleven, no, twelve.... then eleven........ I was floating......... it was so soft.......... nothing matters.......... ten, maybe.......... I was tired, I was going to sleep now..................


Anna

"Wake up, Elizabeth." my voice sounded weird, as if it belonged to someone else. No. Like I was in a play, just saying the words of someone else's life. Words I'd memorized, tried my hardest to put feeling and meaning and realness into. Well, life is no play. There's nothing real or meaningful about them. As for emotion, it's an act, that's all. Thick with overdone, pretend, stupid actions people use to convey how they feel. None of the things people did on stage could express what was running through my mind. Thousands of thoughts and feelings, all terrible, tryingto burst through. I pushed out of my mind, or at least into the corner.
Elizabeth didn't move.
"Wake up!"
Her eyelids fluttered slightly, and she stared at me. "Anna?"
"Um... yes." I couldn't think of anything else to see. What could someone say at a time like this?
"What's going... Wait, the operation!" she stared at me, seeming just to have remembered. "Did they take my leg off?"
I couldn't make my mouth open. How could she be so calm? After a minute, Brendan nodded.
"Oh." She looked at loss for words. "So, how long until school starts... for you guys?"
Sheila managed to answer. "Late August. About three weeks."
Elizabeth gave a slight grin. "And me soon after. You know, if I'm better by then I think I'll go back on the one year anniversary of the day I found out I had cancer. It would be very ironic."
"What?" I asked stupidly, "You can't go to school."
Any trace of a smile vanished. "Why not?" she snapped. "Well?"
"I... I just thought..."
"You just thought I'd spend the rest of my life sitting in some hospital bed, doing nothing? No, I'll go back to school as soon as I'm in remission, finish eleventh grade and high school and college, and be something in this world. Do you think the fact that one of my legs is made of a material besides flesh and bone is going to stop me? If it were, I wouldn't have had it cut off! I had that operation so I could live, not so my life would end here!"
"S-sorry, I just didn't think..."
"Damn right you didn't think!" she opened her mouth like she had something else to say, then shut it and left us with an even louder noise, the noise of complete and utter silence. Elizabeth glanced around then looked quickly up at the ceiling, staring into space. After what seemed like hours, my mother spoke.
"Goodbye, Elizabeth. We'll see you later." We all left the room.


Elizabeth

I felt sorry even before I had finished talking. Anna wasn't trying to be mean, she just wasn't thinking. Now I was alone, to stare at the stump where my leg once was and think. Think about my life. I was alive, but I was missing most of a leg. It was cut off six inches above the knee. And I was weak from the cancer and the operation and the chemotherapy. I couldn't walk at all right now, and the doctor said it would actually be several months before I could be fitted for a prosthesis. Until then, I'd have to learn in the hospital. I didn't want to go to school with nothing at all from my thigh down.
Then I wondered what grade I would go into, when I did go back. A couple months of individual learning could get me ready to graduate. Then what would I do? I had always wanted to be a teacher, or some kind or research scientist. It would be hard to teach younger grades with a fake leg. A scientist would definately be the easiest.
But what about me? A job couldn't be my life. I had always planned, in the vague future, on being married and having children. I still could, and now it seemed more important than ever. If I couldn't have children of my own, I'd adopt them.
A sudden thought gripped me, a terrible one that made me shudder. What if I didn't live to do these things? To graduate, get a job, have children? The doctor had said, even with the operation, I still only had a twenty percent chance of of living. I would probably die from cancer within a few months. Why plan for the future at all? It was never coming. I had lost my leg for nothing.


Anna

I felt horrible about what I had said, but I thought there was some truth to it anyway. It would be hard for her to go to school, balancing on crutches or that pathetic leg thingy and carrying books at the same time. Why couldn't she just relax for a while? She was already far ahead in school, and since she was disabled she would always have someone to provide for her. Why didn't she just lay back, and enjoy what she could of life? She could never do much with her life, and she'd never use any of the things that she pressed herself so hard to learn. She'd never do much. She couldn't get married, couldn't get a decent job, couldn't have kids. All she could really do was let things happen.
She didn't have much to live for. That was why she got so mad, she wanted to keep pretending it had all never happened.
I checked the clock on my bedside table. 12:32. I couldn't sleep tonight. I flicked on the light and stared over at Elizabeth's empty bed, perfectly made without a wrinkle. A light brown teddy bear sat on the pillow. It was one of her presents from the first time she went to the hospital, I remembered. I quickly shifted my attention to the desk. On one side of the desk was a lamp, on the other a stack of books. I squinted to read the names. A Swiftly Tilting Planet. Gone with the Wind. Moby Dick. Les Miserables. Then there was one with no title on the side. I walked over and realized it was a blankbook. Elizabeth's diary. I almost opened it, but quickly put it back. It was hers and I knew she wouldn't want me to read it.
Her room was just how she'd left it before we'd left for vacation. Waiting for her to return. What if she never did? I lay back down on the bed and started crying.


Elizabeth

"Wake up!" I forced my eyes open. Someone I'd never seen before was standing over me. "No, lay back down." she said as I tried to force myself into a sitting position. "That leg needs rest."
"Who are you?" I asked nervously. She smiled.
"Gemini Policarpio. I'm a psychologist. I just came to talk." Oh, yeah, right. Talk about my leg, or, actually, lack of.
"Oh." I couldn't think of anything else to say.
"What do you want to talk about?" I shrugged. Do you want the honest answer to that? I thought scathingly.
"Your name's Elizabeth, right? Do you have a nickname?"
"No. Everyone calls me Elizabeth." I should be nice. She was only there to help. "What should I call you?"
"Gemini." I searched my mind for something to say.
"Are you a twin?" I said, not really caring about the answer. She nodded.
"My brother's name is Segundo. I'm the older one."
"I'm a twin too."
"You are? Sister or brother?"
"Sister. Anna. We look exactly alike, but she acts more like Sheila."
"And Sheila is...?"
"My older sister. She's almost sixteen."
"So there's three girls in your family? Lucky. I always wanted a sister." She looked thoughtful.
"I have a brother too." Since she didn't respond, I kept talking. "So it was only you and Segundo in your family?"
"No, oh my goodness no. I have six other brothers besides. Segundo and I are the oldest.
"Snow White and the seven dwarves."
"That's what everyone says."
Several minutes passed in silence before anything more was said.
"You're fourteen, right?"
I nodded absentmindedly.
"So is my brother Randy."
"Is he the youngest?"
"Second youngest. Z.J.'s younger."
"What's Z.J. stand for?"
"Zachary Johnson."
"Oh." I wondered when she was going to get to the point.
"How old is your brother?"
"Ten." I muttered. Suddenly the door opened and a nurse came in with my breakfast. After a while the psychologist started asking questions again.
"So, you're starting high school in a couple of months. Are you excited?" I wished she hadn't asked. I had a feeling this was meant to prompt a discussion in which I would discover that I could go to school, even with a fake leg. I scowled.
"No, I'm going to be in eleventh grade."
"Oh." she said, looking very surprised, "Did you skip a grade?"
"Two, but why don't you know all this about me? They must have given you some sort of file."
"I usually don't read the files they give me. They are completely empty of any information I couldn't find out just as quickly by asking, and that way we have something to talk about."
"Why don't we just talk about what you came to talk about?"
"We are. I came to talk about whatever you want to talk about."
"Please, Mrs. Policarpio. You're insulting my intelligence."
She sighed. "I should've known when I you asked if I were a twin. Well, we don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. If you ever feel like it we can. Until then, we'll just talk about whatever."
"I guess." I finished eating and put the tray on the night table.
"What do you do in the hospital to keep busy? It must be so boring..."


Anna

School started. Sheila and I were going to the same school now. A couple of the kids in her grade knew Elizabeth and thought I was her. It was hard to explain that she had had a relapse and I was her twin. Some kids who hadn't known her very well seemed to think that I was lying because I was ashamed of having to go back to my old grade. I really didn't care.
There was alot more homework than in middle school, but for once I didn't mind very much. Elizabeth, Rachel, and I started studying togather after school, at the hospital. Elizabeth actually helped us alot more than we helped her, but she didn't seem to mind. It was like she enjoyed the extra work.
One Thursday when I was packing my bag to go home, Rachel ran up. "What did you get in math?" she asked excitedly.
"Huh?" I crammed another textbook into the already bursting backpack.
"On your report card." she said, as though I were being stupid on purpose. She waved a yellow folder in my face.
"Oh yeah." I had completely forgotten we were getting them today. "I didn't get mine yet. I'll go do it now. Here, can you hold this?" I forced the bulky bag into her hands and rushed to my homeroom.
My homeroom teacher, Ms. Francis, was standing in front of a half full classroom. She automatically picked up the last remaining folder. "There you are, Anna. I thought you'd have been one of the first, with how hard you've been working lately."
"Thanks." I mumbled. I walked out the door, opening it on my way. I looked apprehensively at it.

REPORT CARD - ANNA WILSON
GRADE 8
MS. EMILY FRANCIS

ALGEBRA I - MR. GREGORY OLSEN A-
AMERICAN LITERATURE - MRS. JANE PORTER A
BIOLOGY - MS. EMILY FRANCIS A
CIVICS - MR. JONAS HALLIDAY A-
FRENCH II - MRS. WILMA MYRTLE A+

I blinked and looked again. I couldn't believe it. "No way!" I said loudly. I started running down the hall back to my locker. Rachel was standing there, struggling to keep my backpack from slipping out of her hands and looking very annoyed. When she saw me, she dropped the bag.
"What?" she said, "Christmas coming a month early this year?"
"I got straight A's!" I said, picking up the bag. I started stuffing the rest of my things into it.
"Yeah, right."
"Look for yourself." I handed her the report card. She stared at it for a second, then laughed.
"They must have mixed you up with someone else." I glared at her. "Oh, Anna. I'm joking. I got straight A's too, except for Algebra. B+."
"Oh." I said, trying not to sound disappointed. "Well, we need to get to homeroom." I slammed my locker shut and walked down the hall.
"Anna!"
"What?" Rachel was still standing by my locker.
"Don't be jealous or whatever. You beat me in almost every subject!" I sighed. Sometimes it was like Rachel could read minds.
"I won't. Bye!" I turned the corner before she could call me back again.

I rode the bus to the hospital. I wanted to show Elizabeth my grades, and my parents if they were there. They were my best ever. I knocked on the door and started to push it open, but it swung the rest of the way by itself. Elizabeth stood there, smiling excitedly. I looked down and gasped. She was wearing jeans and shoes, and had both legs.
"I can walk!" she said. "I'm leaving Monday! I'm back in remission!"
My mother appeared behind her. "Isn't it wonderful?" she asked. I nodded slowly as I struggled to figure out what was going on.
"You didn't tell us you were learning to walk on the proffectic leg!" I said. "I thought you were still in bed all the time!"
"I wanted to surprise everyone, and I didn't-" she broke off. "Well, the doctor said I might not go into remission very soon, and I might not ever be able to, you know, leave. I didn't want you guys thinking I was all better when I wasn't."
"Oh." suddenly I remembered why I had been so anxious to get here. "I got my report card."
"Really? What'd you get?" she asked, sounding genuinely interested. I saw my mother give me a disapproving look. Maybe I hadn't made enough fuss over Elizabeth's leg. I ignored her and handed the folder to Elizabeth.
"Straight A's? Wow, that's good. But you better be careful. If you skip into Sheila's grade too, she'll be really embarassed." I laughed slightly.
"That's good, Anna." said my mom. "Why the sudden change?" I shrugged. Let her think I'd done it all on my own.
After a while my parents went to call Sheila and Brendan. Elizabeth and I started a game of chess. After a few minutes, Elizabeth still had all her pieces and I only had half of mine. I decided to distract her by talking while we played.
"When are you starting school?" I moved a knight tentatively, which she promptly took down with her bishop.
"I'm not. I'm too far ahead. I'm going to study at home this year, then take somes tests so I can get a diploma. I go to college next year." I wished I hadn't asked. Perfect Elizabeth. Irritably, I pushed my other knight forward without bothering to think about it. Unsurprisingly, she took that too.
"I don't know if I want to." she said as she carefully examined the board. She slid a knight forward. "Check."
I moved my king a place to the side, and she took my queen instead.
"You could've taken my knight, you know." she said. "Then you'd still have your queen."
"Shut up." I muttered, moving my bishop so it threatened her rook. I suddenly remembered what she'd said. "What do you mean, you don't want to?"
"Well, I'll only be fifteen. I think I'd rather wait a couple years. That way the work will be easy for me, and I can have a decent social life."
"You still could!" I said.
"How many college guys do you know who'd date geeky one-legged fifteen year olds? Not only that, but how many girls would want to be friends with them?" She knocked my bishop off the board with her rook.
"None." I muttered. "But if they were good enough to be worth dating, they wouldn't care about any of that!"
"The only way I'd have any friends was if they felt bad for me." she continued. "If I wait three years, I can go with you and Marissa and Rachel."
"No you can't." I said. "You'll be in some Ivy League college and we're all headed for the state university."
"No, I'll choose the college I go to. Besides, who says you can't get into a good one? Just work hard. It's your turn."
"Oh yeah." I moved a random piece. "Elizabeth, you know as well as I do the only reason I got straight A's is because you were helping me and checking my homework."
"Check." she said again. I scowled. My plan to distract her wasn't exactly working. I moved my king over a spot. "No, you're in check there too. Move it the other way."
I did, and she moved a bishop down and put me in check again. I moved a pawn in the way, which she took. I was back in check. I moved a spot forward.
"You can do it yourself." she said. "And I'm still willing to help you."
I didn't answer this. She put me in check again. After a minute, I remembered something.
"Why hasn't Liana been around? She hasn't called or visited or anything." I moved a piece in the way.
"I don't think she knows what to say. I haven't heard from her much since I got sick." she moved a bishop thoughtfully. I used the break from being checked to move my rook into a more threatening position.
"Aren't you mad at her?" I was startled by her matter-of-fact tone. "She's one of your best friends, but the second something bad happens, she doesn't have time for you."
"I'm not mad. She's just scared." she took my rook. I sighed. All I had left was the king and two pawns. "But you've changed my mind. I think I will go to college next year. You're right. If they care more about a fake leg than me, they're not worth being around. Sometimes you and Rachel are alot alike. Smart about things like that."
Feeling rather pleased with myself, I moved a random piece. Elizabeth wrinkled her eyebrows, then glanced at the self-satisfied look on my face. "Then again, you don't know everything." she moved her knight and smirked at me. "Checkmate."


Elizabeth

I woke up. I was surprised, as I was every day, to be at home, in my own bed. It was dark out, and peaceful looking. I almost got out of bed to check the time, but instead I stared out the window.
The sky was black and moonless. It was snowing gently, the flakes seeming to float in the air rather than falling like they usually did. One star shone brightly in the sky, pulling my attention away from everything else. It was so beautiful. After a minute, I looked down at the houses across the street. Most of them had multicolored lights dangling from the gutters and the porch rails. Lit up trees and candles shone through the window. In the Denson's living room, directly across from my new room, I could see Mrs. Denson carefully placing brightly wrapped presents into a small stocking. I watched her arrange candy canes and little bags of chocolate on the branches of their tree, among the bulbs and tinsel, and suddenly had a feeling of immense peace. I looked back up at the star, staring at its fiery whiteness. I didn't hear Anna come in.
"It's so beautiful," she said softly. She sat down beside me, her two legs sticking into the crack between the bed and the wall, my own one right beside it. She started singing.
"Silent night, holy night, all is calm..." I joined her, "...all is bright, 'round yon virgin mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild, sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace." I let her finish alone. Anna had a beautiful voice. I leaned against her.

"Elizabeth, wake up," I felt a hand on my shoulder. The room was lighter than I remembered it being. Anna and I were sprawled out of the bed, our legs still dangling over the edge of the bed. Someone had put a blanket over us. Brendan shook me again, "Hey, you guys, it's Christmas!"
"Really?" I asked, "Did Santa come?"
He rolled his eyes at me. "Santa's not real," he informed me, "You know it's just Mom and Dad."
"Yeah he is," I said, thinking of Mrs. Denson hanging candy on the Christmas tree with that loving look about her, "I saw him last night."
"Whatever," said Brendan.
Anna sat up and smiled at me. "Come on, let's get out there," she said.
"Race you!" I pulled myself into a sitting position, swung my leg onto the other side of the bed, and hopped toward the door. Anna and Brendan laughed, a little nervously at first, and then charged after me. When I got into the living room I lost my balance and fell into Sheila.
"Merry Christmas!" I said, grinning sheepishly. She pulled me to my feet. Foot. I shook this thought away and hopped over to the end of the couch, and sat on the floor. Anna jumped down next to me.
"God, you guys are crazy," said Sheila as Brendan ran into the room, tripped over a present lying in the doorway, and slammed into an armchair.
"Not as crazy as you!" said Anna. She grabbed Sheila's ankle and pulled her leg out from under her. Sheila fell and we all started tickling her. Sheila is the most ticklish in the family. She starts laughing if you even pretend to do it across the room at her. She started giggling hysterically and shrieking. Tears poured over her bright red cheeks.
"St-stop!" She could barely get the words out. "I caaaaaaan't breeeeaathe!" She struggled half-heartedly, still laughing too hard to really try.
"Admit you're craziest!" demanded Anna. Brendan pulled off one of her pink slippers to get at the bottoms of her feet.
"I admiiiiiiit iiiit! I'm craaazyyyyy! I'm iiiiiinsaaaaaane!" After a minute we released her, and she lay on the floor, still shaking and crying with mirth. She gasped for breathe and sat up. "I'll get you! You watch it!" She pretended to glare at each of us in turn.
"Merry Christmas."
We all turned. My parents stood in the doorway.
"You're awake!" said Brendan.
"Of course we are. We could as easily sleep through a tornado as you four on Christmas morning," my mother said, "Come on, open your presents."


Anna

That Christmas day was one of the best days of my life. I'd always loved Christmas, and in the last little more than a year we hadn't had much to celebrate. We spent the rest of the vacation trying out our new things, making snowmen outside, learning how to ice skate with a fake leg (well, only Elizabeth did that, while we got in the way), and staying up late to watch the ball drop and toast the new year. We were all so happy, so unworried, those few days. We should have known it couldn't last.
We went back to school in a half daze, still excited and wonderful feeling. For a while, we enjoyed what we had once taken for granted: a fairly normal life. For that time, the worst thing we thought about was me failing a math test and Elizabeth not getting a valentine from David Forrester.
Just after Valentine's day Elizabeth moved back into my room. She had moved into my parent's room when she first came home, so she wouldn't have to use the stairs. Now she was back in my room, and I decided that that was the final sign that this part of our lives was over.
It was, I suppose. But not in the way I hoped.
One morning I woke up before Elizabeth, which was very unusual. She always had to drag me out of bed and into the shower. But today it was fifteen minutes before the bus came, and she still lay in bed, her soft white comforter covering her face. I pulled it back, laughing.
And screamed. Blood covered the bed, the other side of the comforter, and Elizabeth. She lay unmoving, and for a moment I was sure she was dead. Terrified, I dropped the blanket and ran out of the room.
"Anna, what's wrong?" I had turned the corner and run straight into my father. He caught my arms, "What's going on, honey?"
"It's Elizabeth!" I said, "She's... she's..." My father released me and ran into our bedroom.
"Call 911!" he yelled. I pounded down the stairs, ignoring Sheila and Brendan as they came into the hallway, asking what had happened. I picked up the phone and dialed the number. It took me three tries to get it right. Someone picked up almost immediately.
"Get someone to come quick! It's my sister she's bleeding everywhere and she's not moving! Please, hurry!"
"What's your name?" asked a tired voice.
"Anna Wilson!"
"Address?"
"462 Wrightley Avenue. In Denford."
"Stay on the phone. We'll be there as soon as we can. Don't move her."
I called up the instructions to the rest of my family. Brendan dashed down the stairs just long enough to tell me Elizabeth was breathing but she hadn't woken up. Five minutes later, although it seemed more like five hours, I heard a siren and an ambulance pulled up. They put Elizabeth's lifeless body on a stretcher and brought her into the ambulance. My mother got in too, and my father and the rest of us got in the car and followed.
When we got to the hospital we found out that Elizabeth was already under surgery. We waited, very impatiently, in a small waiting room with a couple other people. Finally Dr. Klausburg emerged from the surgery wing, walking very slowly.
"Is she all right?" we all asked at the same time.
"She's stable. She should wake up in a few hours," he told us, "Elizabeth's a very lucky girl."
"No, she's not," Sheila snapped. "Very lucky girls don't get cancer at the age of thirteen. They don't get one leg chopped off and they aren't found lying in a pool of their own blood one morning."
"You're right," said Dr. Klausburg slowly, "Maybe I should have said Elizabeth is a very stong-spirited girl. It took a lot of determination to survive that amount of blood loss."
"What's wrong with her?" my father asked.
"The cancer is active again. We will not know to what extent until we test her, and for now we're just letting her rest. We'll do the X-rays as soon as she's stable enough to risk moving. Then we should know very quickly."


Elizabeth

Everything was red and sticky and nauseating. It poured from everything around me, bringing pain and sickness. I struggled to cry out, but something covered me. I was screaming - someone was screaming - and the sound rang in my ears. The redness filled my lungs and stomach and nose and mouth and it filled me. That and the terrible shrieking sounds.
The shrieking got worse, and the redness started to fade away. So did the shrieking, and it all turned to a cool, quiet, peaceful black...
Brightness pierced through me, and I tried to draw away. A poem floated through my head, with a reason, a meaning, I couldn't quite remember. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep...
Something surged through me and I let the darkness fade away. I was back in the hospital. I sensed my mother beside me. The redness... she'd be scared. I tried to say something.
"Maw..." I stuttered, my head pounding, "Maw you kay..."
"Elizabeth?" A sweaty but cool hand touched my forehead. "Oh, darling. She's awake! She's awake!"
My family crowded around me. My hand flew to my neck, to a tiny silver cross. I felt the engraved word there.
"Elizabeth... Oh my God..." Anna started crying.
"Wha appehn?" I said, the words getting caught on my tongue, which seemed to have swollen and grown much to large for my mouth. Apparently they understood me, though.
"You got so sick, blood was coming out of your mouth and nose," my mother said. She clutched my hand, "Oh, Elizabeth..."
"I kay," I said, "Gaw mise a go a for a see."
"What?"
I concentrated and took a deep breath before answering, "Gawt miles ta go bafuhr I sleep." I coughed, and tasted blood in my mouth. My mother gripped my hand tightly.
"I think she's delirious," she told my father. I shook my head, wanting to make them understand.
"It's from a poem," said Sheila, "We studied it last year. 'Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening,' by Robert Frost."
"Oh yes..." said my mother vaguely. Dr. Klausburg appeared beside her.
"We'll need to do the X-rays." I nodded. X-rays. Great. They moved me onto a bed with wheels. As we started moving my head began to clear.
"Am I going to be okay?" I asked, "Do I have cancer again?"
"Yes, you do." I noticed he didn't answer the other question. I lay back, trying not to worry. A minute later I was lying in the washing machine like device they use to do X-rays on patients who can't stand up. I spun around, making me sick. I closed my eyes.
A few minutes later, back in my room, Dr. Klausburg dropped a folder on the my stomach. I picked it up and opened it. It held a transparent picture of a skeleton - my skeleton - with blots sprinkled in various places. I squinted at it.
"The dark spots," said Dr. Klausburg, "Are malignant tissue." I didn't say anything. Beside me, my mother started to wail. "We will need to operate within an hour, or never." I nodded.
"Can - please - could I be alone for a minute?" the words came out normally now, as though my swollen tongue was so small in comparision to my other problems that it no longer had an effect on me. Everyone left, without even arguing. I grabbed the necklace.
I should give up, now, I thought, It'll just be more painful if they operate, and I'll have to do Chemo again. I'd rather die--- I broke off. I wouldn't. I wasn't ready to die. And miles to go before I sleep...
I looked down at the little necklace, the cross, the word strength. Whatever happened, I was going to have the strength to fight.