[Finn]

Fuck scans. Fuck me. Fuck cancer. Fuck hospitals. Fuck life. Fuck everything.

Well, all but Jack. But now I don't what to do. I knew dying was inevitable but I didn't know it'd happen so soon.

You know why 'fuck everything' was stated? I think you guessed it. Yep, more scans with more bad results. Some of them have shrunk due to the chemo but others, the chemo has no effect. I honestly think its making some of them worse, if that's possible.

I haven't told, Jack. I cant bring myself to. It's been a little over a week since I've found out and we've been... whatever we are for over a month.

I feel like soon, I'm gonna leave him alone again. And I DON'T want to do that. He's been through enough. While I'm over here getting worse, he's getting better. I'm happy for him, I really am. I'm just scared about what's going to happen to him once I'm gone... I know he'll be fine, at least I hope he will.

I got out of the scan machine to only see solemn faced doctors, shaking their heads and bobbing their eyes, knowing it meant its only been getting worse. I could tell they felt bad for me.

One doctor saw me looing, it was the same one who found me after I tried to kill myself. My annual checkup doctor, Miss Stevens (any Grays people out there?). She waved at me and, without a hint of the sorrow that was on her face earlier, smiled.

The head doctor, and I know he was trying to whisper, but clearly he wasn't very good at it. He said, "He can't stay here forever, I know es sick and I know he has no where to go... but this isn't a hotel."

I put my head down and rolled away. Pretending like I didn't just hear that.

My life had been like a roller coaster these past few moths. It's ridiculous how bipolar my body is. One day I'm near cured and the next, I'm about to die.

I wish it would just pick one.