Months later Charlie got worst. She didn't like taking her medicine so she only took it when her parents were around. She was 18 but her parents thought it would be best if she stayed with them. And why not. They're playing for the treatments and hospital bills.

Charlie gazed out the window, her head resting in her hands. She could see the garden stretching out before her. The grass needed to be cut and the hedges were wild and needed repair but she didn't mind at her apartment. It was quiet and peaceful, but sometimes too peaceful. She often found herself wanting to be back in the city surrounded by her friends just like before. 'Nothing is as it should be' she thought.

She was tired. The antibiotics always had that effect on her. She was tired and felt sick, she wanted food but felt as if she couldn't keep it down. She wanted to sleep. She was tired emotionally as well. Tired of seeing people look at her in concern, their faces full of pity and sorrow. Her friends were always quiet around her now, almost as if, should they speak too loudly, she would break. Everywhere she turned she was faced with pity and people that couldn't meet her eyes. She was tired of it.