She follows closely behind me. “Fine. I won’t tell you anymore that everything will be okay. Is that what you want?” She spits my own attitude back at me.

I don’t need to turn around to see the hurt on her face as she speaks those words.

“Yes. As long as it’s the truth. You don’t know if everything will be okay. I don’t know if everything will be okay. Fuck! Dr. Olson doesn’t even know if everything will be okay. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of hearing those words!”

I turn around so that she’s facing me again. “Look, Genna! Does this look like the face or the body of a person who is okay? Because get close and look hard. I have no hair! Anywhere!” My throat is burning and I can feel the veins popping out on the sides of my neck.

Taking a calming breath, I step away from her, but I don’t break eye contact as I do. I need her to see. To understand what I am going through. No one knows or tries to know. All everyone does is tell me how sorry they are and how everything will be okay. That I will see in due time.

Well, f**k time! All time has ever done to me is hurt me. Time is my enemy.

Give it more time, Aundrea.

More radiation, Aundrea.

More chemo, Aundrea.

One more time, Aundrea.

One more round, Aundrea.

To hell with all this time nonsense!

Tears run down her cheeks as she stares expressionless into my eyes, but I don’t stop.

“You’re not looking.” And she isn’t. She continues to watch my eyes as I hold my arms straight out in front of me. “Look at me!” I scream.

I scream so loudly I’m sure the next-door neighbors can hear me. I wait to hear the footsteps of Jason or my parents running into my bedroom, but no one comes.

Her eyes move to my arms, then back to my eyes with nothing but emptiness behind them.

“Do you see now? It’s not okay.” I speak in a softer tone. I’m ashamed I’ve let a tear break free. I try to brush it off, but another just falls in its place. “Not only did I lose the hair on my head, I lost my eyebrows, my eyelashes, my arm hair … and …” I trail off, but shift my eyes to the floor. “It’s all gone.” I choke on my words, trying to get them all out.

“I’m s—”

I cut her off, holding my hand up. “Don’t, please.”

I sit down on the edge of my bed, water dripping down my legs and back.

“It’s all gone, Genna. All of it … there’s nothing left.”

I press my face into my hands and break down. It hurts so bad to show weakness, especially over this. It’s not even over the fact that my hair is disappearing. Most people would be thrilled to look down and see they no longer have to shave their legs, underarms, or bikini line. But it’s the fact that it is being taken away from me against my will that hurts more than anything. This thing is ruining my body. It’s deciding for me what stays and what goes.

It’s making the decisions for me.

Breaking me.

Killing me.

I feel the bed dip, then I’m being pulled into Genna’s arms. “I know.” Genna kisses the top of my head and I cry harder, letting out everything that’s been building up.

“I don’t even feel like I’m a woman anymore. I look in the mirror, and all I see is this skinny, pale, empty, hairless body that has become unrecognizable. If everything that represents who I am is gone, then what’s left of me?”

“Everything, Aundrea. Your beautiful eyes. Your big heart. Your strong attitude. That smart brain of yours. You’re still you, Aundrea. You don’t need your hair to define who you are.”

I cry softly into her shoulder.

We sit together in silence until the sun is shining brightly through the blinds, filling the room with a natural orange glow. I’m still wrapped in the towel. I don’t even think about the chill from the soaked towel. All I concentrate on is being in Genna’s arms.

Genna is the first to speak. “You know, when you were first diagnosed, I wished it was me.”

I move to look at her and see the seriousness on her face. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought that because I was adopted it should have been me to get cancer. I don’t know my family history. Mom and dad don’t know it. It would make more sense if it were me. It would have been easier. It fits.”

“Don’t think like that. It would never be easy for anyone to get cancer, especially if it were you, Genna. Why would you even think something like that, let alone say it?”

She sighs. “Aundrea, I love you. I love Mom and Dad more than anything, but I’m adopted. You’re their miracle baby. Not me. I’m not their biological child. I thought, and sometimes still do, that life would just be easier if it were me. No one would miss—”

“Don’t. Don’t even finish that sentence.” I move so that she has to look me in the eye. “Listen to me. You are a part of this family. You are my sister. We don’t need blood to prove that. That’s what we got our tattoos for.” I gesture to my right foot. “These tattoos represent us. No matter what anyone says, and regardless of our race, our eye color, or our hair color, we are sisters, Genna. You were meant to be a part of this family just like I was. I would never in a million years wish what I’m going through, or what I’ve been through, on anyone, especially someone I love.”

As I say the words, I’m surprised they’re even mine. I’ve thought about a different life so many times, but maybe this is how things were meant to be for me. Maybe this is the true path I’m supposed to take in life.