The wind is whistling outside, rain is pounding on the roof. I can’t sleep. My heart is still pounding, the world still spinning, the crisp new pages of the Bible still glistening in the harsh moonlight.

I jump out of bed, pulling myself into a sitting position and jerking my hair out of my face. The rain drums against the roof, and I lean back against my bedframe, looking around the room with eyes still crusty from sleep. It’s late at night, but my curtains aren’t drawn, and I can see everything perfectly clearly.

I stare at my own reflection in the mirror across the room for a minute, my eyes flicking from my messy hair to my bare feet dangling off the side of my bed. Words still haunt my feelings, a girl looked back at that reflection and saw something completely different from the girl that I saw. You, Alyssa Gray, are just like your mother.

I stare at my reflection, and two frightened eyes stare back at me. The shadows have twisted my face, made me look strange, made me look darker. My skin is crawling, my body is shaking, I feel terrified, but somehow, I feel peace as well.

If God were real, would he really look down at me and see someone worth dying for? Would he really look into my eyes and see a girl in them, a girl who needed a daddy? Would he really look beyond my mistakes, beyond the horrible things I had done, the horrible way I had treated Marya- and see a princess?

I’m completely frozen, unable to go back to bed, and unable to get up and find something else to do. I just sit there, fighting, struggling to breathe, to pretend that everything isn’t still falling apart and I’m just a normal kid living a normal life.

But I know I’m not.

I riffle through the pages of my Bible, holding my breath as I run my thumb slowly through the pages, letting each one flip over and collapse on top of the one before it. Every second that passes, cancer is spreading over my body, the cells in my bone marrow slowly dying.

I’m running out of time.

I suck in a deep, shaky breath, setting the Bible next to me and closing my eyes, letting the world spin around me for a moment before I pop them open and let the shadows settle over them again. Joshua’s song still echoes softly out of the back of my mind, begging to be heard, begging to be spoken. But I just sit there, dreaming of a better life, a better world.

Finally, the still rumble of the rain becomes too unbearable, I have to say something, have to break the silence. So I open up my mouth, pressing my tongue against the roof of my mouth and struggling to speak words to a person that I can’t see, can’t hear, can’t feel. Struggling to speak words to a person that I’m terrified might not exist, but even more scared that he will.

“Can you hear me?” I whisper hoarsely, curling my knees up against my chest and rocking against the beat of the wind.

There is only silence, an eerie stillness that settles in my heart and sends another wave of darkness crashing on the stormy rocks.

I sigh, my heart sinking inside me, and push the Bible away. It slips off the edge of the bed and thuds onto the ground, and I don’t bend down to pick it up, instead just sitting there and staring at it for a long time before lying back down again and staring up at the ceiling. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I whisper to myself as I pull the covers over me and close my eyes softly. “There should be so much more to life than this.”

Sweat trickles down my neck, I keep my body completely still, and try to sink off to sleep, but it doesn’t come. Thunder rumbles in the distance, my room lights up with flashes of lighting. I start trembling violently, I can hardly move, hardly breathe. A low tingle dances across my skin, and hot tears slip down my cheek, but I don’t move, sweat plastering me to the covers.

I laughed, I hugged Marya, I cried with her just a few hours ago, but the familiar ache won’t leave me. I still can’t forget, can’t forget what has come to pass, can’t tear myself away from the realisation that I am going to die someday. That someday, my life will be over, and she’ll have to keep on living life as best as she knows how.

I drop my foot to the ground and kick the Bible under the bed, swinging it back up and swaying softly with the wind. The rain has stopped pounding on the roof, there is only a light sprinkling now. I stare into the shadows, a shiver creeping up my neck, and sing, my voice a mere whisper, “The ballad of a dove, go with peace and love, gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket, save 'em for a time when your really gonna need 'em oh…”

I cut off abruptly, pushing the covers off of my tingling skin and standing up with a thud. Little rays of sunlight slowly peak beyond the clouds, the shadows are beginning to dull. I stand there for a moment with my arms hanging limply at my sides.

I take a deep breath, completely unsure how to begin. But finally I manage to mumble a few words that I know will never be enough. “God… if you’re up there, somewhere, then... please say something. I mean, I think I probably sound like an idiot right now, but I need to know.” I pause, hot tears slipping down my cheek. The wind whistles softly outside, my heart flutters like a bird struggling to fly.

I fall to my knees, bowing my head and staring at the ground, trying desperately to get him to listen, to make him care, to say something that would be enough to get his attention. “Is this it?” I cry, letting tears stream down my cheek and plunk on the ground. “Is this all there is to life? To eat, breathe, sleep, and then die? Why did you put me here? Who are you?”

The stillness is suffocating. I stand there waiting, struggling to find hope, to find love, to find peace, but nothing happens. Only a horrible emptiness that sweeps up my body and shatters every part of me.

There’s nothing left.

I’m still grabbing on, still hanging, still hoping that maybe there might be something worth living for, something worth clinging to. But when I ask, when I try to pray, when I try to cry out for help, no answer comes. And I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on.

I shove the tears out of my eyes. The sun is rising, steady rays of light shifting over the room. I stand up, refusing to look at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror, and instead stumbling downstairs, where Mum is already sitting on the couch waiting for me.

She looks up when I enter, and she takes in the sight of the tears fresh on my cheeks, the sweat pouring down my back. She meets my eyes and we stare at each other for a minute, neither of us willing to do anything to break the silence. Finally, she scoots over on the couch and pats the cushion next to her, gesturing me towards her. “Come sit down, Alyssa.”

I don’t say anything, just walking limply to the couch and slowly sitting down next to her, staring down at my lap with tears burning my eyes when she puts her arm around me. “What can I do?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” I whisper hoarsely, and my voice is so quiet that it’s a wonder that she hears me.

“You were doing so much better these last couple days. What happened?”

A burst of anger shoots through my skin, and more tears squeeze their way past my eyes and skitter down my cheek. “You don’t get it,” I snap, far too loudly, and I hang my head in shame when I see her hurt expression. I lower my head, my cheeks burning, and mumble, “You think that this sickness is just something I can “get over”. You think that because I had a good day, everything is suddenly behind me. Well better doesn’t work like that.”

Her hardens, and she stares at me with hurt and confusion in her eyes. I know she doesn’t understand, she’s trying, but she has no idea how I feel. She opens her mouth and then closes it again, like a goldfish gasping for air, and then says, “Alyssa, don’t go back to talking to me like that. I’m trying to help you, for god’s sake.”

There’s a sharpness in her voice that makes my whole body jump in fear, but I wipe the sticky tears off my face and murmur, “I’m sorry.”

“Alyssa, I have to ask if you’re ready. Because if you’re not, we don’t have to do this.”

I’m crying so hard that I can barely speak, but she pulls me into a hug, and I don’t pull away, instead managing so sob into her shoulder, “Yes, I do.”

She rubs her hand slowly over my back, running her fingers through my hair and dribbling down my spine. “You’re right,” she whispers, and I can see that she’s crying too. “You’re right,” she says again.

I fall silent, and so does she, neither of us knowing what to say. We stay there a long time, curling up in each other’s arms, neither of us willing to be the first to pull away. Finally, she murmurs, “Just get past today, Alyssa, that’s all you need. After today, it will be over until next week.”

I pull away quickly, my face contorted in pain. “You really weren’t listening to anything the doctor said, were you?”

Her eyes crinkle together, her shoulders rising defensively. “Of course I was,” she protests, staring at me with deep confusion and sympathy in her eyes. “Look, I know about how it’s going to work, I didn’t understand the full science of it, but I’m not a doctor so-”

“So you think that this next week is going to be easy? You think that I get the immediate dosage and then the hard part is over? Don’t you get it? This changes everything. This isn’t just some random treatment, Mum, this is chemo.”

“I know that,” she cries defensively, putting her hands up with her face crumbling with sadness. “I was just trying to encourage you that they’re giving you time to rest. And it’s going to be hard, Alyssa, I know that, but hair will grow back once you’re off of the therapy. And we can handle a little vomiting, right?”

“He also said that I might lose my hearing,” I point out with a muffled sob. “And that my blood count will significantly lower and I’ll be at risk of getting all kind of other stuff.”

“He said ‘might’, Alyssa, he was trying to prepare us for all of the options. But you are not going to lose your hearing.” There’s a fierce sort of passion in her voice, and I look at her face and am started to see the strength in her eyes, the fire lighting up her face. She’s not giving up. And seeing her makes me feel that I won’t either.

“Be strong,” she whispers, brushing her hands over my cheeks. “For my sake, Alyssa, if not for your own.”

“Okay,” I agree finally, giving her the biggest smile I can choke up. I wipe the tears off my cheek and give her a tiny nod. “I will.”

She’s smiling through her tears, and she stands up, walking slowly towards the kitchen. “We will never, ever give up.”