Fall: move from a higher to a lower level, typically rapidly and without control.

///

I took a feeble step back into the classroom, noting the small nod from my teacher as I returned to my seat.

My presence didn't change the usual natter between students and as I used a hand to slowly massage my aching throat, my eyes wavered to watch the flakes of paint that were on the verge of collapsing into an untidy heap.

"So," A mischievous voice murmured into my ear and I sighed automatically, "How's that horrible cough going?"

"It's just a cough." I replied flatly to the menace who persisted in agitating my every action.

"Wow," Davis raised his eyebrows, "You're a genius."

"Thanks." I rolled my eyes and sighed, allowing the cold surface of my thumb to relieve the burning sensation that had been tormenting me for the last few weeks.

"The fact that she's not replying to you just shows how irrelevant you are to Ava." A witty voice intercepted.

I met the brown eyes of my best friend, Davina, who sent me a smirk as Davis huddled towards his textbook in defeat.

"You need to get that checked out though, Av." The girl's gaze rested upon my throat and I subconsciously gulped.

"Yeah," I murmured, "We're going to see my doctor today."

"Unless you want to be kept back after school, finish the damn work!" My teachers sharp voice cut through the idle chatter of everyone.

I sighed and gazed back at the question, reading the words: Write a personal description of death.

Oh the shards of irony those idle words held.

I picked up the thin frame of my black pen, holding the nib to my lined paper and slowly writing down my honest opinion.

Dying wouldn't be so bad. It's an easy-

Abruptly stopping and looking at the tall boy beside me, the ink smeared into a messy scramble of lines as I covered up my prior words.

I pushed my dark brown hair behind my ear and then began to write again.

If I died young, I would want to be buried in the simplest of coffins. I'd prefer to remain in the clothes that my soul had passed away in; it would be weird for someone to dress a dead body. With my hair lying against my natural face, the only item I'd like to have with me is a white rose. One single pure flower to resemble the untouched innocence of youth.

I covered my mouth as another cough erupted through my dreary lungs, the loud noise made me cringe at how it disrupted the silence and attracted attention.

I ignored the glances and pushed away the embarrassed specks of red on my face, instead I continued to write.

The weather should be clear, sunny would be ironic but rain would be horrible. Snow would be amusing. I don't want everyone to wear black if I die. My funeral should be an event for those who only truly know me. If anything, I'd prefer the people to wear grey. White is distinguished for joyous weddings whilst black only resembles grief. I'd like it to be somewhere in between.

A tap on my shoulder made me flinch as I dropped my pen to the paper, looking up at the cause.

Mr. Chester's eyes had already scanned through the words to my horror, and as he opened his mouth to suggest something, I mentally groaned at my luck.

"That's an interesting perspective Ava, but remember you aren't just writing for the sake of if. You need to include a lot more language techniques, figurative language for example. Use metaphors to describe the coffin, personify the rose, I like the mention of weather but use it to portray pathetic fallacy; what could it symbolise?"

I nodded mutely and wondered if I was meant to answer his question, but as he awkwardly moved away I guessed against the idea.

English was just another class I would end up failing, it wasn't difficult -just pointless.

Turning back to pick up my pen, a short fuzzy ponytail blocked my view.

Coughing loudly, this time on purpose, I pushed Davis's large frame away. He chuckled and moved back to his side of the table, and then used his hazel eyes to warn me of the stupid comment that was about to come.

"I've got a pair of grey boxers, can I wear them to your funeral?" His light eyebrows wiggled suggestively and I scowled at the mere idea.

"You'll probably be the death of me, but even then you won't be invited to my funeral." I grumbled, turning my head away from the ignoramus.

"Tough luck Davis," My friend giggled, "You don't make the cut."

"Shut-up," He scowled, "Go eat a Samosa."

Davina smiled at his comment, flicking her middle finger at him and replying, "I'd happily eat more than one."

I smiled at her confidence and pride in culture, then enjoyed watching the menace's words drain away as the bell rang.

Mr Chester grumbled to himself as we all rushed to pack our things away, before calling out, "If that page isn't finished by next lesson then it won't get marked. Just remember that you'll be the one who's missing out."

I slung my grey backpack around my shoulders and picked up my denim jacket before instantly moving to Davina's side, avoiding the loud group who had surrounded the imp I sat next to.

"Got a shift today?" I asked her as we walked out of the door.

My body shrank away from the sea of faces who were all enthusiastic to leave this hell hole, Davina laughed at my reaction, "Yeah, two hours of serving coffee addicts."

"I don't know how you manage to do shifts and juggle A grades along with that." I enviously murmured as we walked down the flight of stairs.

"I steal the brains of my older brother," She smirked, "There's a horribly smart legacy to live up to."

We stopped at another landing and Davina questioned, "Library again?"

I nodded glumly before coughing deeply, the scratching feeling in my chest had fought back, "Not for the full hour though, I've got that appointment."

She nodded understandingly, "Well they better sort that cough out, I'll see you later then."

I smiled faintly and nodded, "Yeah, bye."

We departed as I pushed a grey door, sliding through the empty gap and stepping through the hallway. There were a few groups of friends who were roaming the corridor, chattering loudly.

I automatically pulled my sleeves to my fingers and sped up, walking swiftly past the groups and avoiding eye contact. I hated being alone when there were so many large groups of people, but I'd rather not associate with unnecessary students.

I'll play the part of a lone wolf.

~

I could feel my mother's gaze burn into my back as I uncomfortably stepped on the weighing scales, feeling the pressure of my body apply onto the object.

My doctor adjusted the frames on the bridge of her nose, "forty-nine point two kilograms."

After she jotted the figure down, I stepped away as mum echoed my thoughts, "Is that normal for a girl of seventeen?"

"The average weight for a girl of Ava's age is actually fifty-four point four kilograms," She motioned for me to take my seat, "It's not wildly dangerous but it is worrying."

I bit my lower lip in concern, I wasn't anorexic but my body wasn't exactly the epitome of healthy.

"Ava," Doctor Harvings' blue eyes met my own as she tried to decode my thoughts, "Have you been gaining or losing any weight recently?"

"I've stayed the same weight for some time now," I murmured truthfully whilst playing with fingers, "It's been impossible for me to gain anything."

"Hmm," she tapped her desk with a frown and my mother and I exchanged nervous glances.

"Have you ever been a carrier of any gene mutations?" Her attention turned to mum.

I looked up at her face in curiosity but Mum shook her head, "I'm not so sure, that's an odd question."

"Right, well I'm going to have to request for a blood test." The strict voice challenged.

"It's fine, but what for?"

"The combination of that chronic cough of Ava's, along with her inability to gain weight appears quite concerning. I'd like to test if you could be carrying a certain disease that could have been passed on to Ava's genes," The woman pushed her glasses up her nose again, "Are you aware of any of your family members having or being a carrier of Cystic Fibrosis?"

The what now?

I squinted my eyes in confusion and looked back at my mother, who awkwardly ran a hand through her dirty blonde hair, "I'm not so sure. I grew up in an orphanage."

My family came from a long dreary line of issues, and I was just carrying on that prophecy.

"I see," The doctor nodded her head curtly, "And Ava's father?"

My fingers froze as they detached from playing with each-other, I held my breath and allowed the corners of my eyes to peer at mum, who appeared unfazed.

"I haven't the slightest idea." She gritted her teeth and I could feel her mentally pushing away the traces of memories.

Doctor Harving sighed, "This is a difficult case. For the child to inherit the disease, both parents must be carriers. It is recessive, after all."

"There's no way of finding out if he's a carrier," I muttered, "He's gone into the shadows."

"Well the possibility might be confirmed after your mother's results. I'd rather you both have the test though, Ava may need treatment."

I clenched my fists together and ignored the continuous tapping sound that had infiltrated my mind. A disease?

My lip trembled and I asked, "Could I die?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions." Mum placed her hand on my shoulder reassuringly but I caught her sceptical glance at the doctor.

"It's different for each person Ava, do you know anything about Cystic Fibrosis?" She questioned.

I shook my head sheepishly, "Nothing."

"Well it's quite a severe problem that may cause your lungs and pancreas to falter, I won't go into details until the results are back. Let's see if we can do something about that horrible cough."

She began tapping the keys of her keyboard and I sent my mother an anxious glance, what was going on?

Giving me a confident smile, Mum took her hand in mine in assurance, her warmth exerting a means of hope.

"I'm going to prescribe you some cough suppressants now." She handed me a slip of green paper that container a lengthy medicinal name as well as her signature.

"We'll have to do the blood tests at the extended clinic?" Mum checked.

"Yes," She nodded her head, "They're open every weekday in the early morning, the sooner the better. Once the results have come in, you'll get a letter if anything is worrying."

"I see, thank-you," Mum stood up, indicating for me to do so, and I echoed her words.

The doctor spared us a pitying glance, "Let's hope for the best."

As we walked out of the confined room, I sent my mother a panicking expression, "What's happening to me?"

"Don't stress out yet." She murmured as we walked out of the dull building that appeared friendly through it's use of colourful posters.

"That's easy." I sarcastically replied.

"Ava." She sternly warned.

"How am I meant to just be okay with everything? Do you know how this could change my life?" My eyes widened and I began to think of the possible alterations to my life.

What if I never lived to pass the exams I'd killed myself over?

Would I be able to do all the things I normally do?

I want to fall in love and get married.

I want to get a job.

I want to have a family.

"Ava!" Her hands were shaking my shoulders now, "Stop it! Don't shroud in pity and worry until it's confirmed, please."

The knot in my throat wasn't because I was ill anymore, it was because of the tears that were on the verge of collapsing.

Like I'd practised so many times, I resentfully held the weak drops of water away. Instead, I nodded my head mutely and resiliently walked towards the Pharmacy to collect my medicine.

The next few minutes were a blur as we made our way through a handful of other people. The paper I held in my hand was passed to a stranger behind the counter, who processed the order and packaged a box into a paper bag.

"Taking any other medicine?" A voice asked.

I shook my head against the blur, aching the craving for my bed and darkness.

We walked out of the Pharmacy as I held the bag in my arms, my denim jacket stuck to my school uniform like a new weight as I glumly looked around the street.

"I've got to go back to work darling." Her voice replayed the continuous line.

Just like I'd always rehearsed, I forced a smile and replied, "Yeah, I know. I'll be fine don't worry."

"Get some rest then, I'll be back for dinner." She kissed my forehead before heading to the silver car that was parked down the side of the road.

I watched mum's figure disappear from my vision before swiftly turning around in the opposite direction and pulling my earphones out. Attaching them to my phone, I allowed loud music to drone out my idle thoughts.

Absorbed in the lyrics that yelled out emotions, my yearning to be sitting in the dark increased. Faces passed me as I travelled towards my safe haven, the sky becoming foggier and foggier.

It was so hard to comprehend what my life was fusing into.