I'd lived with the diagnosis since I was eleven years old: leukemia, cancer. I'd gone from home to the hospital, and from the hospital to home several times. I simply learned to live with it and made peace with my illness. I was still sick, yes. But I was no longer terrified of death or the doubt of whether I'd make it to adulthood. When I turned fifteen I started going to my checkups on my own, at least I wanted to experience what adulthood and responsibility are supposed to be like. Now I was no longer eleven, nor fifteen, I was seventeen years old, at least life or God was too merciful to let me see my adolescence. It was another Monday, another appointment to have my blood drawn and see if the cancer was in surrender or if it was still in my body, I was sitting on the hospital table while a nurse was preparing needles to draw my blood, when I looked to my side where there was a girl who looks like he's also here for a checkup, So I opened the curtain that separated us a little and smiled

Ey...

I said in a friendly tone as I looked at her, I didn't want to scare her, or make her believe that I was one of those weirdos who throw themselves at women just for being pretty. I mean...she's pretty, but I was curious about her. I don't remember seeing her in the hospital, at least not in the same places as me.