Hi guys I know I said the book would always be in Rebecca's POV but I lied, okay? Deal with it.

David's POV:

I had helped Rebecca get moved into her room, which was on the first floor. Only two floors in the entire house, but I thought it wouldn't be good for her lungs to go climbing up and down the stairs all the time. She'd been in her room for 2 and a half hours, doing what I don't know. I was in the kitchen, getting lunch ready. She'd been released from the hospital at 11 am, and now it was 3 o'clock in the afternoon. I heard a crash come from her room and I dashed over, I knocked on the door. The door flew open. An angry looking Rebecca was standing in the door frame. I saw dried tear marks on both sides of her face.

"Rebecca, are you okay?" I saw the pain and sorrow of an old person hiding in her eyes, not a 13 year old girl.

"Yeah, I'm great. Why?" Her voice was stuffy, and it was cracking a lot.

"Look, I've seen ok, and you're not. I can't help you if you don't tell me exactly what's happening." I said, leaning on her bed. She looked me dead in the eye.

"I don't need any help. I'm fine." She insisted. Her eyes were so filled with pain, it hurt just to look her in the eyes. I nodded my head.

"Okay." I said, getting up and walking out of her room. I closed the door and went to my room. I snatched my laptop and put it on my desk, opening up Skype. I called her parents address and her mother immediately accepted the video chat.

"Hello. Is everything alright?" Her mother asked, fear seeping through her pixelated face.

"Hi. And, no. Not everything is ok." I told her, my own emotions threatening to be shown. I suppressed them, having learned how to hide them quite well in my acting career. She fell down into her chair and buried her face in her hands. I saw a tear fall.

"Is she alive?" She asked me, her voice breaking half-way through the sentence.

"Yes, she's alive." I replied, seeing the relief swell across her face.

"Where is she?"

"In the room I gave her at my house."

"Why is she there and not on the plane headed home with Mac?"

"She had to go to the hospital, she started coughing up blood. Matt and I took her there twice, once halfway through our meeting, and then when they were about to board the plane." I saw more tears threatening to spill from her mothers eyes, and they did. She nodded.

"But everything is okay with her right now?"

"Other than the fact that she's in her room crying her eyes out. I tried to help her but she shut me out. I can't help her I......" It was in that moment that my dam burst, and my voice cracked like an eggshell. "I don't know what to do. I want to help her but I don't know how." I said, a few dozen tears racing down my face, two at a time.

"I don't know what to do either." Amelia said, her own face turning into a race-track of tears.

"Can I talk to her?" She finally asked.

"I don't see why not." I replied. "I'll take my laptop down." I replied. I carefully grabbed my laptop and went downstairs. I approached Rebecca's door and knocked.

"GO AWAY!" She hollered.

"Your mum wants to talk to you." I said, and the door flew open a moment later. I held my laptop to her, and she took it cautiously to her bed where she set it down. I closed her door. I walked back up to my room, and laid down on my bed to cry.
How could this have happened to someone so young with so much more life left in them? This disease had taken such a large toll on her. I didn't know her well, but I could tell just by looking at her that she used to be so happy and mentally energetic but now.... that's gone.Shouldn't have happened to a 9 year old kid, shoulda happened to a 40+ year old person. Still, it hasn't worked that way. I heard her feet coming up the stairs, followed by her oxygen machine. I quickly made myself look like I wasn't having a break-down, and was ready for her when she knocked on the door. I opened it and I saw my laptop in her hands. She handed me my computer.

"Can I come in?" She asked me. In response I moved out of the way and opened the door wider. She sat down on my bed as I put my laptop on my desk again, and plugged it in. I went and sat on my bed next to her.

"I'm going to be stuck here for the rest of my life." She bluntly said, her expression hinting that she had accepted her fate.

"What makes you say that?" I asked her, even though I already knew the answer.

"I have stage 2 lung cancer, I was told I had less than a year to live, and now I'm too weak to go home. Honestly, I don't see any other way for me to not die." She said, fiddling with a hangnail that she eventually pulled out, causing her to bleed. She watched the blood pour out in small droplets. I grabbed a band aid and placed it on her finger, the padding instantly staining red.

"I'm going to help as much as I can, alright? If you want treatment, you'll get it. If you don't, I can't force you. Just know that I'll be willing to comply with whatever you want, okay?"

"Okay." She said, pressing hard on the place where the band-aid was, making it bleed even more.

"Hey, don't do that." I told her, gently grabbing her hand and pulling it away from the bleeding patch. She looked at me like I had just started randomly speaking in Russian, very confused.

"Why not make myself bleed? Might kill me sooner." Her words were like tiny little daggers, piercing everything everywhere at the same time.

"Because you still have your friends and your family, and they need you to be alive for as long as they can have you."

"I'm never going to see them again. Any of them. I really don't have anything to live for." She shed a tear or 15 while she was talking, so I wiped them away again.

"I'll see if I can fly your parents over, and then we can figure something out when they get here, yeah?" I asked her, making her immediately throw herself into me in a hug.

"Thank you!" She sobbed, burying her face into my shoulder. I patted her back and rubbed my hands on it, making sure that she was completely ok. She stopped crying, and got herself sorted. She got ready to go downstairs, meaning she got her oxygen machine prepared. She then stood up, and I with her.

"I think I'll go downstairs and watch some Harry Potter." Rebecca said, walking to the door and opening it. I went out after her.

"Mind if I join?" I asked, grabbing her machine so she wouldn't have to carry it and possibly hurt herself.

"No, no really." She replied. I smiled. Finally, I'd gotten her out of her obsidian hard shell. So we went to the living room and turned on The Half-Blood Prince, her favorite Harry Potter movie. That day was relatively perfect, which would inevitably, be the last of its kind.