She looks in the mirror. She sees a person who is unrecognisable to her, someone who is a stranger. The person in the mirror has no control over her body, the person in the mirror has no control over where she wants to go, the person in the mirror has lung cancer. She closes her eyes flicks straight past the memories of the treatment side effects, all the annoying nurses, she skips straight to school. When she was in school.

*    *    *

 Kiera Miller glides through the the halls on her way to third period. Her dark brown hair is in two long braids that bounce at her petit waist. Her smile glowing, her teeth shining, her eyes glistening. Her shoes clicking like a round of applause. As she walks through the red frame of the classroom door, her heart aches and her throat contracts. She wheezes in a breath of air. She holds the door frame and slowly takes herself to the ground. The teacher rushes to help her up. Without asking Kiera if she was ok, the teacher sends another student to get the nurse. Kiera can’t help herself but close her eyes, she has a frantic urge to sleep. Her eyes drown at the idea.

 Kiera woke up to the sound of sirens. Her eyes are still blurry. White ceiling, white boxes, someone in a white cloak. The woman in the cloak looks at Kiera asking her questions. She can't seem to respond. All she can hear are the deafening sounds of sirens. The sound of sirens control her mind, leaving her with a rock as her head.

*    *    *

 She scoffs as another nurse hurries through her door. She has had enough with all the nurses for the past few days. However this nurse escorts her and her mother to an office. A male doctor awaits them. He sits with such a posture. It is quite intimidating. He sits her and her mother down. The nurse quietly disappears. The doctor starts going through procedures and tells the duo that Kiera will need weekly visits maybe more than once a week. Kiera stands and paces the room. The doctor trails off on his words. She turns to face him and her voice is stern. She asks him, why is she is sick, why does she need to come to the hospital every week? Then it happened, just like that. It was as if the doctor’s words were bullets, only it wasn't quick nor fast. She had lung cancer.

 When Kiera returns to her room, she eats, she sleeps, she doesn't say anything apart from ‘ thank you ‘ and ‘ yes please ‘ and this is only to the nurses. Her parents are left in the dust.

*    *    *

 Her head is in the toilet. The toilet bowl is almost like a white bus, moving vigorously. Side effects, vomiting is a side effect of chemotherapy.  She looks sadly at her window. She feels caged in. She feels as if she is stuck in a jail with those bars on her window. It reminds her of the sirens, almost as if she was in a police car and not an ambulance. Just at that terrible tormenting moment, yet again another nurse walks in. The nurse carries in her hand a small bowl of jello. Just by the sight of it she loses her appetite.

 A woman, well combed, nicely attired almost just floats into the room. Kiera weakly follows her counsellor Ange, to a small room at the end of the corridor. They sit and start to talk about Kiera’s emotions and if she's been thinking about death lately.  During today’s counselling session Kiera has decided to shave off all her hair. Ange is really helping calm her down and make her feel more in control over the cancer. Ange is encouraging and understanding. There is no denying that Kiera is getting more sick every single day. She has really learnt to take away good from the sessions and appreciate everyday as her clock slows down.

*    *    *

 Kiera opens her eyes to see the reflection of herself. This time she smiles. She may not have any hair. She may not be awake most of the day but she has hope. No matter the outcome will be. The outcome will be good.