If you readers are unfamiliar with the word "terminal," then you might be wondering why I was unhappy with the news. Besides the cancer part.

The word "terminal" means "to come to an end." It can sometimes be good when things come to an end. It can pave the way for something new. But in Eugene's case, it was the opposite. For Eugene, he was dying - and he knew. He knew that he would not win the battle.

You see, when the word "cancer" and "terminal" are in the same sentence, it usually means that said cancer is incurable. You have an illness, and the doctors are not able to do anything but try making your last days...less painful.

A wave of guilt and fear washed over me. It was unfair. It was totally unfair. How come a nice guy like Eugene has cancer and not someone who deserves it? Why the crub does it have to be him? Why? If he could, I would let him transfer his cancer over to me. All of it. I would rather die than having to see him die. I do not deserve to be rich...or to live. I deserve to pass away. I am sure that his family is better than mine. I am sure that their ancestors have not done any evil.

I wanted to cry, but managed to keep the tears in. I did not want him to see me cry. It would be embarrassing. I sniffed and hugged myself.

"Ann," Eugene said my name, looking at me. His voice soothed my sadness that was letting me sink. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," I stammered. "I-I am just...shocked that you have cancer."

He tilted his head to the side. "Ann...you sure that you are alright? 'Cause if you are not, you can tell me. I...I know that you and I just met, but...you can always tell me whatever is on your mind. I do not bite."

I giggled nervously. "I-I do not bite either."

He chuckled. "That is good - no, great - to hear, Ann."

"My name."

"What about it?"

"You..." I could feel my cheeks getting hot. "...you keep saying my name. You have said it three times already."

"Have I now?" He smiled and scratched the back of his neck. "Guess that I like you more than I realized."

I pressed my hands to my cheeks. "You do?"

He tilted his head to the other side. "I am not sure how to describe it to you, but...there is something about you that makes you different from other girls."

"Is it a good thing?"

He nodded. "I just cannot put my finger on it."

"Is it my blonde hair? My pink dress?"

He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "It has to do with your personality."

"My personality?"

"Yes."

"But...how the heck do you know my personality when we just met?"

"You could say that I am a personality expert."

Eugene opened up to me about all the girls that he has dated so far. According to him, all of them were worse than train wrecks, and that is saying something, seeing how awful train wrecks are. He has been on a date with each girl, which is a total of five dates. He tried starting a serious relationship fives times, but none of the girls made the cut. I felt sorry for him because of how those girls treated him.

"It would be nice if there was a girl out there who loved me for me and not for my looks or status," he said.

"This might come as a shock to you..." I began. "...but I totally understand where you are coming from."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

I tucked a hair strand behind my ear. "I would give up all the wealth for a friend in a heartbeat. But...nobody wants to be my friend."

"You sure about that?"

"Well...there is a girl who wanted to be friends with me regardless if I was rich."

"Who is it?"

"Her name is Rebecca. She is such a sweet - and smart - girl. She actually lives with me and my parents."

"What does she look like?"

I grinned. "I have a better idea. Since that we both will be heading to the mansion after this, you can meet her then. Trust me. You will love her."

"I bet that I will."

After Eugene was finished, he and I exited the hospital and walked down the sidewalk to the mansion - which was my new home. Eugene had many questions about the mansion, like how many floors there were. Where my room was. Where the bathroom was.

"Wait," I said as we entered the mansion. "You need to use the bathroom?"

"Badly," Eugene replied. "Could you please point me in the direction before I wet myself?"

"I have a better idea."

"Another idea? Girl, you are on a roll!"

"I will escort you to the bathroom. I do not want you to get lost." I glanced at the elevator, and then the stairs. "It is really easy to get lost here when you do not know where the heck you are going." I motioned to the stairs and the elevator. "Want to take the elevator or stairs?"

He tapped his chin and thought for a moment. "I think that we should take the stairs. It would be much safer, especially with the ghosts haunting this place."

"You do realize that the ghosts are haunting said stairs too."

"I know, but what could any of them do to us while we are on the stairs?"

I wish that he did not ask that.

I climbed the stairs first. I was on the seventh step and looked over my shoulder. Eugene was not behind me. I checked the bottom of the stairs - and screamed.

My great-grandmother was choking him!

"Stop!" I cried. "Stop that now!"