The Diary of an Almost Living Girl

Thursday June 2nd 2011

3:15 pm,

In My room.

Hi, so this is going to be my new diary, you lucky people will get to hear everything that happens in my life, well until I finish the diary OK? Of course it's OK, this is paper, it isn't as if you're going to talk back to me. There are a few things you should know about me so here goes. My name is Fawn, I know it's unfortunate but you get used to it after a while. I am fifteen years old, I have terrible luck. In fact I have no luck at all, bad or good. Just under six months ago, my family were killed. All of them, no matter how slimly related to me they were, they were killed. My mother, my father, my identical twin sister. Baby cousins, unborn cousins, second cousins six times removed, aunts, uncles, great aunts and uncles. And the list goes on. Thirty-seven freak accidents all at the same time, fires, earthquakes, bombs and tsunami's, killing every other living relative I had, whether I knew them or not. Only killing members of my used-to-be-family, not even injuring a member from any other family. And for some reason, someone decided they were going to play god with my life, they call me the lucky one, to have survived but ever since I have wanted to be with them, well I'll get my wish soon enough. No I am not suicidal before you even think that, nor do I have an axe-murdering psychopath stalking me. The next big thing about me, I'm dying, I have been since I was born. The doctors say it is a miracle I have lived this long and I am not going to make it to my sixteenth birthday, twelve months they say. When my sister and I were born we were two months early, they said one of us wouldn't live and it seemed as if it was Layla would be the one to die and I would live, she was born dead you see and they brought her back to life. But then when we got older I got weaker, paler. She thrived and got stronger, rosy red cheeks and a killer smile. I miss her, more then I miss my parents, I know I shouldn't say that but we were the same, we were together 24/7 no matter what. If I had a nightmare I would climb into her bed and tell her about it, she would nod along and stroke my hair and tell me to go back to sleep, that it couldn't hurt me while she was here. It was easier to cope with when I had them with me to help me through it, bit now I have no one to help me. I have to do this alone. In twelve months I will die from pancreatic cancer. There are no known cases of pancreatic cancer in people my age so the doctors were sketchy at first but three weeks and several different examinations and tests later I was fully diagnosed with it. Now it is a part of me, I have lived with it for so long that I can't remember what it is like to wake up in the morning and no have to grasp my abdomen in pain and run to the bathroom to get my pills or throw up, whichever happens first. With no one here to help me through it I want it over with. The doctors told me I was lucky to be living any longer at all but I just couldn't be enthusiastic about having a whole year more of pain. I can't even look in a mirror without knowing I am ill, there is no way to pretend. When my family were alive, we kept it a secret from the school and my friends but with no family and nowhere to go but school I ended up going in on bad days and having spells of pain that lead me to telling my learning manager. Then I had to tell my friends and then my learning manager told all of my teachers who didn't bother to be discreet when asking me in the middle of a lesson how I was feeling and if I had my results from the hospital. And they wondered why I stood up, turned over my desk and walked out.

Since my family were killed I have become a bit of a problem child, I hate myself for it, I hurt my friends even though I still love them and I need them. I stopped caring, I figured what was the worst they could do, give me a detention or exclude me for a few days. They can't exactly kick me out, my grades are still perfect and they are my guardians for now. I live on a farm that has been transformed into a children's home, if I make it to sixteen I will either go into a hospice to die or be transferred to the half-way house five minutes down the road. It is a pretty area though. I live in Blarghour, Scotland. Right in the middle of a 25 mile long single track dirt road. I love it here so much. Whenever I am upset or angry or feeling any type of heightened emotion I just go for a walk, climb a tree and sit in it or something just to get away for a while. I haven't hit anyone since three days after my family was killed, I lost the willpower. I was in drama class when a girl I have always hated - Autumn - came up to me and sneered at me. She is, always has been and always will be, a chav. She walked around me laughing and pulled a piece of my hair at the back. She always like to torment Layla and me but the difference is, Layla fights back - fought back.

"Where's your sister? Haven't seen her in a while. I almost can't remember her greasy orange hair, her pig ugly freckles but there is no way I could forget her fat stomach, she has to turn sideways when she walks in a door." Autumn and her little gang of chavs cackled at this but it was all it took for me to reply. I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth.

"Layla is dead, along with every other member of my family."

Autumn just laughed at this and pulled a pouty face at me, "are we feeling a little bit sorry for ourselves Fawny?" the girls laughed again. I turned to leave but Autumn hadn't finished yet. "It's a good thing really you know, saves me job. Whoever did this has my respect, clearing the earth of scum."

I wheeled around and grabbed Autumn by the collar, finding some type of strength inside me, I pinned her against the wall and drew a small flick knife out of my blazer pocket. Autumn screamed and I flicked the knife away and punched her in the face, again and again. "You. Don't. Talk. About. my. Family. Like. That. Ever. Again." She was bleeding pretty badly by the time some boys from our class pulled me off of her. Autumn wasn't popular with anyone apart from the chavs so the class had rather enjoyed the first punch but when it became apparent that I wasn't going to stop they panicked and hauled me off of her. I had blood all over me and so did Autumn but by the time a teacher came I had gone limp and the boys that had pulled me off of Autumn were holding me upright. My learning manager was talking at me, I say at me because I wasn't listening, I was just staring ahead. She tried to get me to move but I was completely limp. I felt the world around me spin ninety degrees and someone was carrying me to the learning managers' office, waiting for Miss Grey to come and pick me up. I don't like hurting people, it seems I am better at hurting myself.

For three weeks I locked myself in my room and didn't see sunlight. I didn't eat but I drank a lot of water. Having an en suite bathroom I hadn't needed to go anywhere else, this didn't help my medical condition. I took to self-harming. It is still painful to remember now, I have the marks, stretching all across my body, most of them I did myself but one of them was done by my ex best friend. She was the only one I would let in to see me, she brought food but I never touched a scrap of it. She had to pay a price for being let in so I made her carve a pair of beautiful angels wings into my back. I screamed and screamed and the cuts bled and bled but I made her keep going until they were finished, I wouldn't let her back in again. Now they look ever stranger on my skin. I am paler than ever, it seemed the cancer was waiting until I knew how long I was going to live before it affected me any more. My skin is so pale, it is translucent, you can see every vein in my body, every bone looks odd and sticks out. You can also see every muscle in my body, for a dying girl I have a lot of muscle. I have to exercise for at least one hour every day to keep my strength up. So I do Ballet and Swimming and Horse riding. These have built up the muscle in me quite a lot. My freckles look odd against the whiteness of my skin and my fiery red hair and my blue eyes. They're the one thing that haven't changed because of the cancer, they are the same, big, almond shaped, endless blue eyes I have had since the day I was born. They're the thing everyone notices. That is all I have to tell you for now. This is going to be a diary of the last year of my life. I think I am the only one in the house now, I am the oldest and everyone else is still at school, Miss Grey is out shopping and the farm boy is taking care of the lambs. I think I am going to get a slice of toast and fill the baby bottles with milk so that I can go and feed them – the lambs not the slices of toast or the farm boy.

9:00pm,

In my room … again.

Hey, I have had quite a good rest of the day. Though I have been sent to bed because I have dark circles under my eyes. I tried to tell Miss Grey that I always have dark circles under my eyes because I am ill but she just used that to fuel her argument. She said ill children need sleep and sent me away. I also tried to tell her that I am not a child but she gave me one of her special glares, I think she saves them just for me. Don't get me wrong, I love her and she has been nothing but nice to me; most of the time she does know best but she isn't my mummy and she never will be. The triplets were fighting at dinner anyway so I needed to get a shower, I was covered in spaghetti hoops by the time they were done. So after I left you I went and got some toast because I wanted some and I filled two cups with juice and I filled the baby bottles with milk for the lambs. I took it all down to the pens where we keep the lambs that have been abandoned by their mothers. I should live in one of those pens really. No, my mother didn't abandon me she had no choice. Anyway I walked in, just managing to kick the door open with my foot. And found the farm boy, I think he is on one of my classes at school. Well used to be, I was too much for school so I dropped out, Miss Grey didn't mind, she's trying to get me to go back but I won't. I like doing school here. Apparently he doesn't go to school anymore wither, he is being taught at his home, ten minutes up into the hills in a car, about forty minutes to walk. His name is Caelan, he took a drink and said thank you when I put the tray down. Well the conversation went like this:

"Hi, I brought drinks for us and the lambs." I thought I was very brave to start a conversation with this boy, he was obviously raised by wolves in the wilderness.

"Hey, thank you, I could use a drink and it saves me a trip back up to the house." He took a drink and sat down with his back against a hay bale, a newborn lamb in his arms.

"Awwwww, he's gorgeous! How could a mummy sheep abandon such a cutie?" I squealed stroking the lambs fluffy coat.

"I don't know, want to help me name him? My name's Caelan by the way." He handed me the lamb and took a long drink from his cup before taking down one of the bottles of milk and offering it to the lamb who drunk hungrily.

"OK, how about-"

"I swear if you say fluffles I will die."

"Alright ignore that one then." I reached up blindly and found a piece of toast, as I started to munch on my yummy piece of toast I noticed Caelan looking at me with a bemused expression on his face.

"What?" I said swallowing my toast, "it's nice, want some?" I held the plate out to him and he shrugged and took a piece. Then we fed all of the lambs and took some food down to the sheep and swept the stable up. When we were finished I realised why Caelan was covered in sweat every time I saw him around the farm. I wiped my forehead and invited him back into the house for a drink. We were still sat at the table talking when Miss Grey trudged through with all of the children behind her and announced that it was time for dinner. I wanted Caelan to stay for dinner but Miss Grey said he couldn't tonight, that tonight was 'family' night, he said he had to go anyway, that his mum would be waiting for him and probably worrying considering he was over two hours later home than he would usually be. So I said goodnight and walked to the end of the road with him. When I got back dinner was ready and the triplets bathed everyone in spaghetti hoops. I didn't mind much, it wasn't the first time they had and it wasn't the most disgusting food they had throw at us either. The triplets are three years old, two boys and one girl. Lee, Jamie and Katie, they solve everything by fighting; using food as their weapons.

So now I have been in the shower and shut my room door for the night, I am going to read until someone bothers to notice I am not asleep and tells Miss Grey, she'll then come in and tell me to go sleep and turn off the power so that I can't read anymore … thank the goddess she doesn't know I have a torch. Night Night.

Blessed Be.