"I'm so sorry Skye," the doctor said, looking down at her lap. "The tumor just hasn't responded to the treatment. Pretty soon you'll feel your energy levels drop dramatically and your mobility will become increasingly restricted. I'm afraid it's about quality of life now..." There was a moment of silents in the room. Skye's mother looked over, her eyes drowning in sadness and worry."

Skye? Sweetie?" they waited for a response.

"You win some you lose some" She replied with a small smile. This was the kind of behavior her mother hated. Skye just didn't seem to care that she was crying. "Shall we go then?" Skye chirped as she stood.

"Thank you, Doctor Marsh" Mrs. Aitken mumbled, as she too stood up from her chair. The drive home was painfully quiet and it was all Mrs. Aitken could do not to cry. They entered the house, still silent. Shye booked it upstairs. She didn't feel like a lecture or 'heart to heart' right now. That was the last thing she needed.

"No running on the stairs! Be careful!" Her mother yelled. It was obvious she was still in a bad mood from the Doctor's appointment.

"Gotta run while I still can!" Skye yelled back, earning a strong eye roll from both her parents. She got to her room and slammed the door. Mrs. Aitken turned to her husband in shock and disbelief.

"Can you believe her?!" she whisper yelled, "she doesn't even care! How is she not upset? How are we more upset than her? This makes no sense Greg"

"It's her way of coping hon..." Mr. Aitken sighed. "I'm sure she'll come around. Not even Skye can pretend to be okay forever." Mrs. Aitken made her way over to the sofa and sat down in a heap. It was then that she began to cry.

"Claire..." Mr. Aitken didn't know what to say to comfort his wife. All he could do was sit next to her. Tears began to form in his eyes as well. "Damn it," He whispered, "I really thought she would be okay in the end."

"Maybe...maybe she will be?" Mrs. Aitken whispered desperately, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

"Yeah...maybe" Mr. Aitken smiled slightly before giving his wife a gentle hug. the sad thing was, they both knew she wouldn't make it. All that was left to do now was wait. Hope was dying. Hope was dead.

Or was it?