Important a/n: I actually changed the summary a little, so I would advise you check it out if you thought this story would turn out like something else.

Maya POV

I hate summer.

I know, you'd think I was a crazy person for saying this, but I have a good reason. Have you ever had a moment where you genuinely thought you were dying?

Well, I have. And I feel it every single day of my life. Now, you may still be wondering why I hate summer, well, here's the story.

I was 12, I was happy. Summers, before I was 12, were the best things ever. Even though I didn't get to learn, even though I left a lot of my friends over the summer, I still had fun. Until the summer that I got sick.

The siren blared as it reached the hospital. They rushed me into the hospital, wheeling the bed into the ER. I heard people talking, the one who had gotten me on the bed was talking to an ER nurse.

"Her heart rate is 45, blood pressure 110 over 70." He said as he put his hand on my arm to keep it from falling off the bed.

I've watched enough medical videos to know that a 110 over 70 blood pressure and a heart rate of 45 was not good. At all.

I was dying. And I knew I was.

The first time I almost died isn't even the worse part. It was finding out that I was dying, I'd rather just die now than wait years.

This is my story.

~*~

"Come on, you have to keep it up." He yelled as I continued to huff from being tired.

"But Mark," I huffed. "I don't think I can take it!"

"I'm not babying you just because you're like this. I'm your older brother and it's my job to make sure you're still fit." He ran his hand through his hair, letting the sweat drip off his forehead.

"You're mean." I shook my head, as I stopped, letting my chest heave as I tried to control my breathing. "Why'd you make me do this. I literally went to the doctor yesterday and got new medications, I can't take this."

"Sorry, sis." He ruffled my hair, leaving me in the gymnasium as I was left to catch my breath and grab my things.

Let's start this over.

Hi, my name is Maya Walter. I'm a 16-year-old girl and living in Vancouver. I have one older brother, Mark Walter. He's 19 and in his first year of university. He's tall, a feature I wish I possessed, and he's pretty handsome. At least, that's what his university mates say. Unlike Mark, I don't have many friends. Ever since I moved from middle school to high school, I kept away from people and was pretty quiet. It's not that I don't like people. It's just that I was getting less and less sociable. Plus, I never wanted to make a close relationship with someone who may not see me last.

I go to a regular high school with regular people living regular lives. I'm the exception. Why? Because I'm sick. I'm really sick. I suffer from tuberculosis. Yeah, not very normal, is it? But it's what I'm stuck with, and I can't do anything about it. I'm already at stage 2, they say I could reach stage 3 at any moment now. Sure, there were antibiotics and all, the doctors said that it should only take 6-9 months to cure me. Yet, it never worked. I really gave up on trying to heal myself unless I knew there was a cure out there that would work. So far, nothing. So right now, I'm just trying to push through, as hard as I can.

My brother is really close to me. Especially ever since we found out I was a TB patient. It was really hard on him. He really cared for me, and I appreciated it, but sometimes, I thought he took it a little far. Just like before, he is always pushing me to exercise and keep my body in its best shape. I appreciate it and all, but I really wish there was a day we could just chill.

"Hey, are you coming, or what?" Mark yelled from the door.

"Sorry!" I picked up my things and began to run towards him.

"Slow down, you're gonna trip." He chuckled as I stumbled over. "Clumsy."

I punched his shoulder lightly and walked out the door, him trailing behind me. As we walked towards his car, I heard a sigh escape his lips. Turning back, I frowned. He looked away from me before going around to the driver's side.

"Bro, what's wrong?" I said, getting into the passenger's seat.

"It's nothing." His expression was still and he said no more. I figured he was just stressed. Maybe it was me?

"Am I too much?" I mumbled to myself while leaning against the window.

"You're enough." He reached over and put his hand on my thigh. "More than enough." He tapped it before lifting his hand to drive. "Don't say that; you know that there's nothing you could have done about what happened."

"Mark," Raising my head, I stopped him from trying to reason with me. "I know you're scared, but please don't stress about it."

"I'm sorry." He looked at me for a moment before looking back at the road. "I really am, but you're my little sister, I can't help but be afraid and you know that fear stresses me out."

Nodding, I leaned against the window, closing my eyes as I drifted off to sleep.

~*~

"Maya!" Mark's voice rang through my ears. "Maya, wake up!"

I rose my head, a throbbing pulse filled it as I did. Clutching my head, I looked over at him. He had pulled the car over and was looking at me, concern in his eyes. As my vision had just focused on his features, coughs began to rack my body.

"Oh my goodness." Mark let go of my shoulder and got out of the car to get to my side. He opened the door and got me out of the car while the coughs were still shaking me.

He helped me out and supported me while I coughed, opening the back seats' door so that I could sit there instead, knowing I would need to lay down after this.

"Wait, Mark." Putting a hand up to his chest, I made him stop because I felt something coming up my throat. "Let go," I said urgently.

Doing as commanded, he let me go, uneasily. I stepped away from the car as I coughed harder. I knew this feeling. It happened to me before. Why now though? Ugh. I felt a familiar pain in my chest. As the coughs just got worse, I heard Mark nearing me. Putting a hand up, I told him to stay back, knowing that he could get sick from this too.

"Get your mask, Mark," I said, knowing he always had them in the car. He did as instructed, not wanting to fight with me.

I continued to cough, pulling my own mask down as I tried to control the coughs. It did nothing. Continuing to cough, I finally let out what had been desperately trying to escape my body.

I heard a yelp come from my brother. "Maya, get in the car. We're going to the hospital. Now."

"But-" He cut me off.

"No buts, that was blood, get inside the car, now!" He walked over to me, taking my hand and pushing me towards the car.

~*~

"You haven't had a real examination for a while, have you?" The doctor asked, a distance away from me as he asked me question.

"No, I haven't," I answered weakly. "I only came for that new prescription."

"Well... we've done the tests." He looked up, sorrowfully at me. "You've gone all the way to stage 4." He continued to explain more details to me.

My heart dropped. Right then and there. There was no way. How could I have skipped stage 3? Or did it happen when I didn't know? There was absolutely no way.

Both Mark and I watched the doctor leave us to give us space. Silence filled the room as soon as the door clicked shut. The tension in the air only got worse as time passed. It took a few hours, but Mark finally got up and walked towards a window. He rested his arm against the window, head on the arm as I saw him hiding his face from me.

Looking away from him, I finally got myself out of the bed. I knew I probably shouldn't do this, my body was still weak, but I couldn't help it. As I got out of the bed, I silently paced the room, clenching and unclenching my fists in the process.

My heart felt heavy. It hurt. Was I going to die? Who was I kidding, of course I was. There was no hope. Why did it have to be me? I wondered. As I continued to pace the room, I felt something trickle down my cheeks. Tears? I haven't had these in so long.

My brain was active. Overactive. Too many thoughts crossed my mind at that moment. And I couldn't take it. The headache I had formed only grew as the thoughts got wilder. The burning sensation that I thought had just been my heart feeling sorrowful, only got worse. I felt my breathing hitch, but I did my best to keep it silent, knowing that my brother needed his time alone too.

It hurt. Everything hurt. My body, my heart, everything. I was just okay a few hours ago. I really was. I was okay days, weeks, months ago. Why did everything hurt now? What happened? How? I clutched my chest as a painful sensation filled it. My breathing got worse, as did the headache. And before I knew it, a shrill scream left my lips and I was plopped down on the ground.

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Word count: 1630+

I'm sorry it took so long to update! There is one more chapter actually and then this is over... I wanted to make it a short story and using only a minimum amount of chapters. I was feeling like I wanted to write, but had nothing to write, until I remembered this story and had a plan. I hope you enjoy.