* Trigger warning - Needles & Chemo *

It had only been a few hours since Dad left, but his last words replayed over and over in my head like a broken record.

'Tell Fiona we need a plan B.'

Rummaging through the duffel bag, I searched for my journal, finally able to clasp the tarnished hardcover in my hand. Coffee was the culprit for the dark-coloured stain, ruining the bamboo covering.

Grabbing the ballpoint pen from the bedside table, I flicked to the end and scribbled down the first thought that came to mind.

How does he know her?

I drew an arrow from my pending question to the next, troubling me further.

How does he know about Shadowbrook?

The more I stared at my handwriting, the harder it was to imagine my dad involved in any way.

Does he believe in vampires, too?

Knowing my dad, he didn't. He laughed when Edward Cullen, the sparkling vampire, came on the TV. We all knew that vampires didn't exist and were a myth to scare children.

A tap on the door snapped me away from my thoughts as Johnathan entered, wearing a white lab coat over his shirt. "How are you feeling today?" He stuffed one hand inside his pocket, and the other hand cradled a stack of files against his chest.

I closed the journal, turning my attention to Johnathan. "Good, I guess."

Johnathan smiled, pleased with my answer and gestured to the nurse who had walked in. "This is Amelia, your oncology nurse. She will be your prime carer and will answer any questions you may have about the following procedure."

I nodded, quivering in fear as the constant churning inside my stomach turned up a notch.

Amelia was wearing a white overall with blue-rimmed pockets. Her tawny-coloured hair travelled past her breasts in a single side braid. "Good morning, Erika."

"Morning," I replied, tracing the dream catcher design on my journal. If I pretended I wasn't having chemo today, then maybe my heart wouldn't be beating frantically outside my chest.

Johnathan checked his expensive-looking wristwatch before handing a single file to Amelia. "I shall leave you to get acquainted. See you soon, Erika." The sound of his leather shoes squeaked along the linoleum floors as he left.

"If you would like to follow me to the treatment room, we can then get started," Amelia said, patiently waiting for me to follow suit. When she spoke, I noticed the gap between her top incisors, giving her a slight lisp.

As we walked down the long corridor, my shoulder occasionally brushed against Amelia's. We were similar in height, Amelia being only a few inches taller. She stopped at an ochre metal door with a silver plaque in the centre. It read, 'Do not access without authority.'

She adjusted the brown paper file under her arm as she squeezed the red pump of the hand sanitiser on the wall. A strong smell of antiseptic liquid wafted through the air.

Pulling out her medical ID card, she swiped it through the card scanner in one swift downward motion, releasing the door with a click. Holding the door open with one arm, she gestured for me to go first. "Don't look so nervous. There are many like-minded people, such as yourself here."

She doesn't know me, so how can she say that?

"I'm not nervous," I said, not believing my affirmation. My body language had given away a vital clue as I hid my hands within my sleeves and crossed my arms in defence.

The pale walls absorbed natural sunlight from the full-length window. The row of beige recliner chairs ran down one side of the room with an apparatus beside each one. An individual curtain gave each section its privacy if needed.

On the other side of the room, there was a makeshift kitchen with disposable plastic cups and a coffee machine.

You know the type where you put money in, and it swallows it inconveniently, or where the machine pours out black coffee and no milk when you ask for a cappuccino.

A giant whiteboard covered with inspiring messages caught my attention. Each message varied from one to the other, showing diversity across the ward. As I read each one, I imagined what they felt when they received the devastating news.

Did the earth disintegrate around them because they had to put their life on hold? Were many still able to pursue their dreams after their diagnosis?

One patient had written on a post-it note. 'Dear Cancer, you've picked the wrong bitch. You're not my friend, nor my enemy. You're simply nothing.'

"It's nice, huh?" A female voice came from behind.

She had finished jotting down her message on the green post-it note and stuck it on the board in front of me. Her coal-black pixie hairdo suited her diamond-shaped face. "The message, I mean."

"It's nice to see you all have an energetic spirit here, all things considered." I waited impatiently for Amelia to save me because making small talk wasn't my strong point.

"Did you want to write one? You can be as ruthless as you want." Her smile revealed a bronze glow, highlighting the warm orange-red undertones on her skin.

"Okay." I took the marker pen and scribbled the first thing that came to my mind.

'The miserable have no other medicine, but only hope.'

Puzzled, she arched her groomed eyebrows as I popped the lid back on.

"The greatest medicine is hope. It's a quote from William Shakespeare." I handed back the pen and pad of post-it notes, desperately hoping Amelia would make an appearance.

"Oh, that's inspiring, I guess," she said.

Looking at the green post-it note, I read her message. "Cancer...been there. Beat that."

"Erika, are you ready?" Amelia reappeared with a pair of gloves. "How are you doing, Blair?"

Her mouth curved into a smile. "I'm in partial remission, just waiting for extra tests for confirmation."

"That's great news, Blair," Amelia said, gesturing to the spare recliner chairs that indicated it was time for my treatment.

"It was nice seeing you, Erika." She waved before exiting the room.

Within the first twenty-four hours, I have a friend. Maybe this place isn't so awful, after all.

Pulling the curtain for privacy, she flipped open the medical file and started reading from my notes. "It looks like Johnathan informed you about your treatment. I will be with you through each cycle."

As she was relaying information from the file, I tried readjusting my position on the recliner.

"There are side effects from the chemo, but not everybody will experience hair loss. Cold caps can help reduce the amount of hair loss but can be uncomfortable for you at first. Is this something you would like to try? You can discuss these options with either Johnathan or your parents?"

"No need. It's not something I want to try." Even thinking about it caused goosebumps down my arms. Hair wasn't an issue as it would grow back eventually.

Amelia nodded, pressing on. "We can give you anti-sickness tablets to help with nausea." She paused, waiting for a response. "Do you have any questions before we start?"

She looked relatively young as her skin took on a healthy glow with a mole above her lip, resembling the likes of Marilyn Monroe. Some of Amelia's features, like her button-shaped nose and piercing blue eyes, seemed familiar. I couldn't quite put my finger on who she reminded me of.

"Nope. I'm all good." Poking my finger through the rips in my jeans as a distraction, weaving in and out of the fabric.

"Great." She attached a long transparent tube to a bag of fluid, hanging it on the IV stand. As she grabbed the tube, she fastened the IV cannula at the tip. "Take a deep breath. This might sting a little at first."

She didn't give me time to react as she inserted the needle into the lower part of my arm. My fingers curled around the armrest, digging my nails into the soft padding.

Bloody hell, it hurt.

Amelia delicately stuck a dressing around the cannula to keep it in place and pressed several buttons on the infusion pump beside me. "I take it you aren't a fan of needles?"

"Is it that obvious?" I laid against the leather backrest, afraid the tube would pop out if I moved my arm.

"No, not at all." She laughed and took off her purple gloves and carefully wrapped and disposed of them in the yellow non-hazardous hamper.

Taking steady breaths, I scanned the small space for anything to focus my mind on other than the sharp implement in my arm. A basic wired magazine rack was my only choice of entertainment.

I should've brought my book to pass the time instead of reading about A-listers and their 5:2 diets.

An unknown singer was on the front page of the 'Reveal' magazine. I flicked each page without a second thought as gorgeous, tanned models were posing in their bathing suits. Each woman looked like a poolside goddess as they flashed their hourglass figures, ready for the summer.

"Do guys honestly prefer beauty over brains?" Shifting my weight, I discarded the magazine to the side.

Amelia pulled out one of those plastic fold-up chairs and sat beside me, the pen nestled behind her ear. "Beauty changes faster than brains. And you know what they say, 'You have to dig through the dirt before you reach the gold,'" Amelia said as though she spoke through experience.

"I suppose that makes sense." I hoped I would meet my Mr Right within the Drama Society at University, sharing the same desirable passion for acting.

A niggling, persistent ache centred itself in the core of my stomach, reminding me of Shadowbrook and the lengths it would go to to lure me into its mysteries.

"When did you know you wanted to become a nurse?" I asked, distracting myself again from my intrusive thoughts.

Amelia smiled, making her nostrils flare. "I trusted my gut and went along for the ride. I was lucky enough for Johnathan to take me on." A moment passed before she opened the file and began jotting down notes, lost in thought. "I've always wanted to help and care for others."

At that moment, my gratitude for Amelia skyrocketed. If it wasn't for her inspiring other nurses, patients with cancer would be at a loss in their journeys for treatment.

"What are your plans after you finish school?" Amelia asked, head bobbing as she continued looking at my notes.

Licking my dry lips, I swallowed the copper taste from my mouth, desperate for a drink. "I have my heart set on applying to the University of Lincoln to study Drama and Theatre."

Even as I said it, my heart sunk a little further into the pit of my stomach, knowing it would create a rift in our family dynamics.

The more I talked, the harder it was to focus on what was happening around me. Emotions were exhausting, even at the best of times.

"Do you mind if I take a quick nap?" The fatigue washed over me as I held back the pull, taunting me with such force that I had no choice but to return.

A/N

Word Count: 1,875

What are your thoughts about Amelia, Erika's nurse?

Erika has a friend, do you think Blair will stick around?

Have a fangtastic day!

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