This is from a dream I had; and I just wrote that part so far. I'm probably going to continue, and add a part before this. Just a quick summary catch-up:

Phoenix lives in an apartment with her Mom, who was 14 when she had Phoenix. She doesn't have a connection with her dad anymore. She is 15. She is generally very happy, and has a good relationship with her mom. They are very tight on money. Phoenix's best friend is a girl named Mercedes, who is kind of out there, being the middle child and only girl out of five kids.

Lately, Phoenix has gotten very sick. She stays home from school often. She had begged her mom to take her to the doctor, but being short on money, her mom just wrote it off as the flu. This is a little over a month since Phoenix had fallen ill.

Phoenix: Hayley Williams
Phoenix's Mom (Nichole): Anna Kendrick
Mercedes: Jennifer Lawrence

Please give me your thoughts, opinions, etc. Thanks!!

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"Phoenix, I think we should take you to the doctor," Mom stated the next morning when she found me on the bathroom floor, cradled next to the toilet. I breathed deeply through my mouth, tears in my eyes. I closed my eyes and nodded. Part of me was relieved. Finally, after how long of this... virus, or whatever, she was finally seeing that this wasn't just the flu. Maybe some terrible stomach virus or something. Whatever it was, I just wanted them to give me something to make me better.

Mom shook her head and sighed as we sat at a red light. I pursed my lips and looked at her, waiting for her to say something.

"This better not just be some flu you picked up at school or something," she muttered. "Damn doctor's office is so expensive." I felt a pang of guilt and fear. What if this was nothing? I felt okay now; just a little tired. I looked down at the floor.

"Mom..." I hesitated. "Can... Can we just go home? You're probably right; it probably is nothing."

"No, Phoenix, I already scheduled the appointment. Might as well go..." she sighed. My clammy hands clenched into fists. Why had I been complaining? This was just some weird virus; would probably be gone soon. I should've just suffered through it than keep complaining to her. This was just going to make things harder for us now. I leaned my head back against the head rest and closed my eyes and sighed, though it came out as a whimper. Mom sighed impatiently again.

We sat in the waiting room, my heart starting to pick up. I never liked doctor's offices. We sat there for almost twenty minutes, Mom reading the outdated magazines, when the door opened and a lady in pink floral scrubs called my name.

"Phoenix Escott?" she spoke. Mom and I glanced at each other.

"You want me to come in with you?" Mom raised an eyebrow. Actually, yes. Very much. But I just shook my head and stood up, and followed the nurse down the hall.

"Just have a seat in here for a moment," she opened a door. "Dr. Cade will be with you in a few minutes." I walked into the small room, with a cot covered in the loud crinkly paper, a few instruments hanging on the wall, and the doctor's spinning chair. I chewed on my lip and leaned against the cot. It was freezing in here. Through the walls I could hear a little kid screaming bloody murder.

About ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and a middle aged man poked his head in. He was rather large, with short spiky hair, and he smiled gently as he walked in. He shook my hand.

"You must be Phoenix," he stated. I nodded. "I'm Dr. Cade." He let out a deep breath as he took a seat in the rolling chair. "You can have a seat." I pursed my lips as I pulled myself up onto the cot, the paper crunching obnoxiously under me. "Now... What's going on?" he wondered.

"I... I think I'm really sick," I mumbled. I didn't know what else to say. Dr. Cade nodded patiently however.

"What're your symptoms?" he questioned.

"Um, I keep throwing up, and I keep getting migraines... And I'm always tired no matter how long I sleep, and my vision gets blurry a lot... and... I don't know. And I feel kind of... depressed." Dr. Cade nodded again, and wrote some things down on his clipboard.

"And how long has this been going on?"

"Er... Almost two months."

"Have you tried taking anything for your headaches?"

"Yes, but they don't work." He chewed on the cap of his pen for a while, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked over his notes, then cleared his throat. He crossed the room and grabbed one of the tools off the wall. He shined the flashlight in my eyes, and studied them for a few moments. Then he cleared his throat again, turned the flashlight off, and collected his things.

"Follow me please," he spoke, and stalked off down the hall. I quickly caught up to him; he was heading back to the waiting room. Mom was still reading the magazine when we arrived.

"Mrs. Escott?" Dr. Cade held out his hand. Mom looked up at us and stood up quickly and shook his hand.

"Um, Ms;" she corrected.

"Ms. Escott," Dr. Cade nodded. "Um, well, Phoenix just explained to me what was going on---"

"So is this just some flu?" Mom interrupted. "It's nothing, isn't it." Although she was smiling, I could tell she was getting angry. A doctor's bill for nothing.

"Um, I'm not so sure," Dr. Cade explained. "I would suggest taking her to the Good Shepherd Immediate Care center. I can call and they can make room for her right away."

"What--- What for?" Mom stammered. My hands started to sweat.

"An MRI scan," he replied.

"What's wrong with her?" Mom inquired.

"I can't say for sure, but... Just her symptoms, over this long period of time, and her eyes appear swollen... It's just to make sure everything is okay." Mom stared at him for a while, then slowly nodded her head.

"O-- Okay," she mumbled. She fumbled for her purse on the floor, then grabbed my hand. "Come on, Phoenix. Let's go." She held my hand all the way to the car, despite my protest.

"Mom, I'm sure it's nothing!" I kept telling her. "I'm sure I'm fine! He said it was just procautionary!" Within fifteen minutes, we were pulling up the Good Shepherd ICC. I followed Mom into the lobby to the secretaries desk.

"Hello," Mom greeted her. Her voice sounded wired. "Uh, Dr. Cade from the pediatrician's office down the street sent us here. He said he'd call us in?" The secretary took her time looking through some papers.

"Escott?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Go down to room 108. They're getting the machines ready." Machines? Now I was really starting to get worried. As we walked down the slick hallway, the blurry spots came back. I angrily rubbed at my eyes, trying to make them go away. Then we came to the room, where some nurses were cleaning, and setting up a big machine. It was a big tunnel, with a board part that stuck out. Mom and I stopped in our tracks as we looked it over.

"Are you Ms. Escott?" one of the nurses questioned. Mom nodded. "We're just getting it set up. Here." She handed Mom a hospital gown. "Have your daughter change into this. Remove all jewelry please, and if your bra is underwire, you'll have to remove that as well." I pursed my lips. Mom handed me the gown.

"Well," she breathed. "Go on."

"The bathroom is down the hall, second door on your right," the nurse offered helpfully. I slowly shuffled down the hall and changed clothes. I felt practically naked as I returned back to the room, holding the back of the gown shut with my hand. There was another woman there now; the doctor.

"Alright, dear. Lay down here. This piece is going to move into here, and then it's going to scan you. There's going to be some loud noises and bright lights. But you have to stay perfectly still, alright?" My mouth felt dry. All I could do was nod.

The nurses helped me hop onto the cot, and lay me down. My hands were trembling as I stared at the ceiling, and soon it slipped past me. The machine whirred as it carried me into the tunnel, which I soon realized was rather small. Lights moved over and around me, and loud beeps rang in my ears. My fists clenched as I tried to remain still. I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to call for Mom.

"You're going great, sweetie, just a few more minutes," I heard the doctor call over the machine. My heart was pounding. I wanted to just scream, and tell them to forget it. I'm fine, and I can't do this. When would it be over?!

Forever seemed to pass, when finally the loud noises died down. Then the machine whirred one last time as I brought me out of the tunnel. I sat up quickly, my fingers twitching nervously. The nurse tapped away at some kind of computer.

"You can go get dressed," the doctor told me. "We should have your results in twenty minutes or so." I retreated back to the bathroom, clamping the back of my gown shut again, and got redressed. I looked at myself in the mirror. I leaned closer, studying myself. Dr. Cade was right. My eyes did look swollen. Barely, but he was right. I took a step back from the mirror. What was wrong with me? When did this flu turn into something that needed and MRI--- and right away? I wiped away the blurry spots again then took a deep breath. When I came out of the bathroom, Mom was there, leaning against the wall, her arms folded. I nervously stepped towards her. She tried to smile when she saw me.

"Hey," she said, her voice barely audible. I pursed my lips and nodded once. She reached towards me, and put her hand on my cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Her bottom lip started to trembled, and her eyes sparkled. My heart started to race. I put my hand on top of hers.

"Mom, don't be," I mumbled. "It's probably nothing. They're just making sure, okay? Everything's going to be fine." Mom took a ragged breath, and intertwined her fingers with mine.

"I know," she breathed. "We're going to be okay. You're going to be okay." She kissed my forehead, then we went to the lobby, where the doctor had told us to wait. We sat there, the secretary throwing glances our way, with Mom keeping her hand on my knee and repeating 'you're going to be okay' to herself. I folded my arms, and sat back. Twenty minutes passed. Nothing. I bounced my leg impatiently until Mom told me to stop.

Finally, almost an hour later, the doctor came striding down the hall. Mom stood up, as did I.

"Ms. Escott," the doctor began.

"Yes?" Mom breathed.The doctor stopped in front of us, her mouth a gape.

"I... I hate to tell you this..." she paused for a moment. "But your daughter has a brain tumor. Grade three. We're afraid it's malignant." Neither of us moved. I suddenly felt cold. A brain tumor? Me? I opened my mouth to speak, but it was dry. Right away, the doctor sprung into her explanation. "We would like to try surgery first. We want to at least try to remove the cancerous cells, in hopes of it becoming a benign tumor. There are other options, but right now we are going to say surgery is our best bet. We'll worry about the others if the surgery doesn't help."

"I... I..." Mom shook her head, her jaw looked hinged. "W---W---When?" Tears were falling down her cheeks. My throat was closing up. It was sore, like after I vomited. In fact, I felt sick again. I clamped my mouth shut.

"We want to do this soon... Next weekend? I will notify the surgeons at the hospital. They'll call you later with more details."

"O--Okay," Mom stammered. She put her hand on my shoulder. It felt like a fifty pound weight.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Escott," the doctor pursed her lips. "We will do everything we can. There's still a good chance that your daughter is going to be fine." I could feel Mom tense up at that last sentence. I felt dazed. No. No, no, no. This isn't right.

"Come-- Come on, Phoenix. Let's go," Mom trembled. She turned around hastily and walked out the door. I walked behind her, more slowly, feeling like I would fall over at any moment. Mom started the car, and we pulled out of the parking lot. She sniffed, and wiped her eyes a lot as we drove. I felt nauseous."Goddammit," she muttered under her breath, her voice cracking. She pulled over onto the side of the road. We sat there for a few seconds, absolutely still.

Then she started to sob.

I sat there, helpless, as Mom cried. She covered her face, but the sobs racked through her body, making her tremble and whimper. Tears sprang to my eyes as I watched her. I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay. This isn't real. This is just a bad dream.

"I--- I'm s--- s--- sorry, baby!" Mom bawled. "This-- This sh--shouldn't be happening!" My nose stung, and my lips quivered. My head was throbbing. I considered asking Mom to just get us home so I could take some Advil or something, but I couldn't speak. For a second, I felt sort of hopeful for the surgery. A chance to get rid of these migraines? But the feeling soon vanished.

But the doctor had said there was a good chance I was going to be fine. See? There was hope, right? I had a hard time swallowing. I had to stay positive. For Mom.

"Mom, it's going to be okay," I croaked. "I mean... She said I was going to be okay. It's going to be alright, Mom. Please? Please don't cry." She put her hand on my shoulder, and tried to calm herself down.

"I know, baby. This--- This is just... This is all just so surreal. I'd thought it was going to be nothing, but it... it..."

"I know," I mumbled. "But I'm going to be alright. I promise." Mom tried to smile. She wiped her tears away and sniffed.

"Alright.." she took a deep breath. "Let's go home." Carefully, she pulled the car back onto the road, and headed towards our apartment complex.

***

The dinner table was quiet, except for the clinking of the silverware on the plates, and the soft thump of glasses being set down on the table. Occassionally one of us would clear our throats. I wanted her to say something. Anything. I wanted to talk about anything, just to get my mind off of today. It didn't feel real. I felt numb inside. When was I going to wake up? I cleared my throat loudly. Mom didn't look at me.

"Um..." my voice was barely audible. "I... I think I'm going to get a job." Mom scoffed, and raised an eyebrow. She stabbed a green bean.

"Phoenix, you're fifteen. Who's going to hire you?"

"I dunno... I'm sure I could find some place.." I shrugged.

"Phoenix, why do you want to get a job?" she interrogated. I pursed my lips and glanced down at my plate.

"To help pay for the surgery," I mumbled. Mom set her fork down and looked at me.

"You don't need to help pay for the surgery, Phoenix," she said calmly. But I could still hear an edge to her voice.

"But I can help!" I insisted.

"No, you don't need to help," she shook her head.

"But I want to help---"

"Phoenix!" she snapped. I shrank inside myself. Mom closed her eyes and sighed, then leaned on the table, holding her face in her hands. She took another deep breath. "Phoenix... You're not going to get a job. You're fifteen."

"But---"

"I'll get the money for the surgery, Phoenix. Don't worry about the money, okay? I'll get it. I'll take out a loan or something. Don't worry about it." I looked down at the floor and nodded. "You hear me?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Yes," I muttered. We were both quiet for a second.

"Okay, then... Then please clean up your plate, and go take a shower."

"Okay." I pushed my chair back and scraped the pieces of food into the sink. I placed the plate and silverware in the sink, which was starting to pile up. I went and got in the shower. The water was scalding hot, but it sort of felt nice. I felt so cold. I scrubbed myself until my skin started to burn and turn pink. I felt filthy. But what was making me that way wasn't something I could wash away. It was inside me. Something I could never just walk away from. It made my skin crawl. My eyes felt heavy as I got out of the shower and just stood there for a while, wrapped in the warm towel. I closed my eyes. I felt a tightness in my stomach, and a rising feeling in my throat.

I bent over the toilet just in time to puke up dinner.

I shuffled out to the living room, in my sweatpants and tshirt, my hair a soaking mess. Mom was sitting on the couch, with her eyes closed. She opened them when she heard me, then stood up.

"I'm going to bed," she decided. "I want you in bed by ten, okay?"

"Yes'm," I mumbled and nodded. She came over to me and kissed my forehead.

"I love you."

"Love you too." She made her way down the short hallway. I heard her door shut softly. I looked around the room, then sighed and turned off the TV. I went down to my room, opposite of Mom's, and closed my door. I crawled into bed, making a cocoon with my comforter. Then I just lay there, paralyzed.

Your daughter has a brain tumor.

Why? Why was this happening? My eyes filled with tears. This isn't right. Suddenly, my future became very unclear. Sure, it was never crystal clear to begin with; I had no idea what I wanted to do when I grew up, but now I was wondering if I'd even get that chance.

Tears filled my eyes. The room was silent. I covered my face with my blanket, then let the cries come easily.

***

"Good morning, sunshine!" a voice trilled. I jerked awake, my eyes wide. I looked to see Mercedes, as she strided across my bedroom to open the blinds, letting sunlight pour in. I pulled my blanket over my head and groaned, then sat up.

"What're you doing here? How'd you get in here? What time is it?" I asked groggily.

"Waking you up from the dead, I opened the door, and one o'clock," she listed. I opened my mouth to speak, but didn't know what to say. "You weren't answering your phone." I looked at my phone on the end table, and picked it up to see I had three messages from Mercedes.

"And my mom just let you in?" I wondered. Mercedes paused for a moment then laughed, and took something out of her pocket.

"Oh. Right. Your mom's at the store. She'll be back later." She handed me a note.

Morning, Phoenix. Had a few errands to run. Be back after lunchtime. Call me if you need anything. Love you. Mom. ♥

I groaned and laid back down, groaning.

"Man, you look like shit."

"Thanks," I mumbled. I felt her sit down on the edge of my bed, making herself comfortable.

"You okay?" she wondered. I pursed my lips, staring out the window.

"Yeah. Just... Nightmares."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mercedes replied, but I could hear the smile in her voice. I closed my eyes, hoping she would let me sleep. "Come on! Let's go do something!" she whined. I sighed. "It's Sunday already! We go back to school tomorrow! Let's just make today awesome!" She pulled my covers off of me, making me shiver. "I'm going to go make some waffles. If you're not dressed by the time I'm done eating, you will be sorry, Missy." I heard her leave down the hallway. I sighed and was still for a while, then got up and got dressed.

I walked into the kitchen, to see Mercedes chewing on a chocolate-chip waffle. She giggled when she saw me.

"You know, sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you," I muttered, getting the milk carton out of the fridge. Mercedes laughed in response.