Six years ago, I remember laying in my hospital bed. I had found a bump on my head while I was brushing my hair earlier than morning. Usually, I wouldn't have said anything to my mother. I was already late to school, and I didn't need her to start worrying about me. 

But something told me I should let her know. I'm still not exactly sure what it was. I just remember getting this bad feeling in my gut, like something terrible was about to happen. So, being the type of person that trusts my gut, I ran downstairs, holding my hair up, to let my mom know.

It's not like the bump hurt or anything. It was sort of just there. 

Of course, my mom had been reluctant to explain why she was bringing me to the hospital. She probably didn't want me to worry too much.

Or maybe she just didn't want to let herself think of the worst.

I remember my mom walking into my room while I was laughing at a funny episode of Spongebob (stop judging me, you judgmental people.)

She smiled gently at me and sat on the edge of my bed. "How's it going, sweetheart?" She had asked. 

"Oh, alright." I replied sarcastically, turning the volume down a few notches on the small television. "I would just really like it if you could explain to me why I'm here."

Yeah people. Sarcastic and sassy since the age of ten. Definitely something I take pride in.

My mom had let out a short laugh. I raised my eyebrows, not really sure what was so funny. All I had done, after all, was ask a rather simple question. 

My mother had then frowned at me, her eyes growing sad. "Cece...when the doctor comes into the room...it's okay to cry, alright? I know it's hard..." Her voice trailed off and she choked. Tears were falling out of her eyes.

I remember being really scared at that moment. My mind, so young and narrow back then, hadn't even considered the possibility that I might have cancer. The only thing I really considered is that someone had died, and it had just happened at the same time I was in the hospital getting a bump on my head checked out. 

"Mommy...?" I had touched her arm gently. She had placed her head into her hands while she cried. She looked up at me, her mascara running down her cheeks. "It's okay." I said quietly.

I guess I've always been pretty brave. 

At that moment, a doctor had walked into the room. He looked rather sullen...definitely someone that would scare the crap out of a ten-year-old girl who was already freaking out inside.

"Hello, Cecilia." He said in a deep voice. I'm pretty sure that, at the time, he was under the impression that his voice sounded gentle and kind. Truthfully, it was more monotone. Like he didn't care.

Of course, I'm sure he did care. I mean, who wouldn't care that they were delivering such horrible news. 

The doctor had then taken a very deep breath. He looked me right in the eye, and I specifically remember holding his gaze. 

"Cecilia, my dear, I'm afraid you have brain cancer."