Maybe this isn't the world I was supposed to be born in. Maybe this isn't what God wanted for me. But it's what I got. Every morning I wonder if maybe I was meant to be more than what I am: a sick child.

Since I was little, mom's had to work twice as hard as the other single moms. The only difference was that she was raising half the children they were; there was just me. You see, I have acute leukemia. I've been sick since I was ten.

My mom would have made a designer baby to help save me, but it was too late by the time they found out. Dad was in a coma and still is. I'm seventeen now and I still live at the hospital part time. The nurses on the oncology floor all know me by name, as well as the doctors and cleaning staff. They always had a warm smile for me, and I usually have one for them.

But today, I came in with no smile. It was my last appointment with my doctor and I was more nervous than ever. Today would decide if I was still eligible for treatment, or if my fate was sealed. Me and my mother were hoping for different outcomes.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm sorry, but, the fight's over." The doctor's words rang in my mind as my mother quietly sobbed. The doctor gave me a knowing look and, smiling, nodded.

This is where most seventeen year old girls would scream and cry that their life was too short. But I have accepted what is to happen to me. I'm tired of fighting. That's why today, as I feel death breathing down my neck, his cool hand reaching for mine, I write you this. Because I want you to know that being strong doesn't just mean fighting, sometimes it means resigning. And I want you to always remember something.

I love you.





Author's note: This is in no way based on reality. This is a fictitious character and this letter was written with the sole intent of conveying a lovely message; that true strength can be found in the most mysterious of places.

~KD