Who am I?

My mouth, dryer than a dessert and feeling gelid. I feel the perspiration roll down my smooth but tepid forehead. Conquering the agonizing, peace of silence in this room I didn't feel right, I didn't feel like myself. The walls bone white, the skulled moon illuminates the guest room with a resplendent beacon of shining light. No bed to sleep on, just me and the bare white walls remind me of something. They make me reminisce a blank canvas. A pure white one.

This room was arcane and daunting. Just the scent of it made me quail. Careening back to the wall behind me, an arbitrary sound shuttered my ears as it pierced the silence. Feeling daunted, I trembled as my hands shook faster than any earthquake. As I ambled towards the door the mysterious sound grew louder and louder when suddenly the door walked open. Standing there was a slender man, all black and masked. He walked towards me as I stood there petrified wanting to scream. But my mouth so dry I couldn't talk. I was in anguish. Falling to the bare floor I felt the pain pervade me. 

As my eyes flipped ajar the man ought to have disappeared but it was still the same old white room, nothing had changed when I turned around and saw something which would scar me for life. The wall had changed. It was still white but in the middle, it said something with tiny handwriting written in black. 

“Come outside and you will see the real world” I read the words aloud. Walking outside into the living room goosebumps erupted from my skin as dawn ascended. I felt timorous and not a single fragment of me had the right to follow my instincts. "Don't go there!." "You know you shouldn't." I just didn't know what was dragging me there what was it? A magnetic chain. It was something I didn't know. Now I was in the centre of the house waiting for someone not knowing who. "What was I going to do?" My mind abruptly went vacuous and I felt inscrutable. Feeling ambivalent a sudden tap on my arm scared me. Turning around to a person with who I familiarise myself. I knew that this wasn't the person who is calling me.

“Are you alright my darling do you need anything Gillian?" questioned the nurse. As my heart thumped it felt like it was going to fall out of my chest. I wore a pallor blue shirt when I panicked Where was I? I thought to myself consciously. Feeling warm I fell back onto my bed unconscious.

My name is Gillian and I am 11 yrs old. I got type 1 cancer when we moved into my aunt's house a year ago. I have been in the hospital for last 3 months and I still suffer from hair loss, unconsciousness and dizziness. My parents have been a huge support and so have my nurses to help me push through these hard times. I am getting better so after a week I will be going to school but I will miss my parents though it's only for a short time.

(One week later)

"Hello there Gillian welcome to Stanford's Primary School" exclaimed Mr Anderson with an exuberant mood. "You will be in class 6CI. I will guide you to your classroom." Mr Anderson seemed kinder than any other person except for my father but what if I didn't know anyone and no one wanted to be my friend. These horrendously sickening thoughts crept into my head and hovered around until...

My sight was enraged with equations, computations and pertinently numbers. My mood was enlightened as I felt a spark of happiness lift my mood. Did I did forget to mention Math was the subject I adored? It was one of the only things which could make me forget about my sickness. I never wanted to be known as the "Sick Girl" cause being the sick girl wasn't the only thing that I was good at. I was incredible at solving problems, I was a star at Netball but now if anyone realises that I am the sick girl everyone won't see me as what I am.

As I ambled into the room pairs of eyes stared at me as silence pervaded the room. It was that same feeling again. The agonizing pain of silence.

"This is Gillian Ramoschon a new girl who will be joining your class for the year," stated Mr Anderson cheerfully. Suddenly a girl ran up to me and questioned…

"Can I be your buddy and best friend?" That was Grace Rotchi who has the same initials as mine. She seemed nice when I realised she hadn't finished her question. "Right I forgot that I am asking the newbie, so that sucks". The class burst into laughter as disconsolate tears came running down my pink cheeks.

"Grace meet me in the principal's office now!" commanded Mr Anderson with an upbraiding voice. Everyone went silent as my teacher walked in. Everyone hurried to their allocated seats and at last, I saw mine. Right in the middle. I gulped as I walked forward to my seat. I slid down as...

"Morning class today we are going to be starting off with Mathematics but before that let me introduce to you a new person who is going to be joining us today" stated Mrs Winsor. She then asked me to come to the front of the classroom and introduce myself. Stage fear was the thing pulling me back. It was playing tug of war against my teacher but my teacher was too strong.

Feeling daunted I gulped as butterflies swarmed around in my stomach. My palms were moist and my pulse increased. When the most embarrassing thing of all happened. I fell to the floor unconscious. It was my first day and already this. I made some sort of impression on the class that I was the sick girl. That was my first and worst nightmare.

Now I am in high school and have come over the fact that I have cancer. So what if others know that I have cancer because even if they chew me up, step all over me with their words and build up a laughing stock, I will never be ashamed of who I am today because I will always keep my value.

Today I have many friends and am the star Netball girl at high school. I was ashamed but I will never again cause that is who I am. Not the sick girl but someone better. Someone who believes in themselves to be more than that. But a memory that will always be engraved into my body will be the day I got type 1 cancer in my aunt’s guest bedroom.