I’m scared. My insides are squirming as I stare at the blank white wall in front of me. It’s lined with scum and mould. There’s no one beside me to hold my hand. My family are all on holiday without me. My heart skips a beat as I think about the possibilities.
“Nadya?”
I stand up and listen to the sound of my trainers pushing off the sticky lino. Left. Right. Left. Right.
I wring my wrist with the thumb and index finger of my left hand, willing the day to be over, for the last month to be a dream, so I can wake up and check myself and not find a lump. It wasn’t even me who found the lump. The thought sickens me. That night lives forever in my mind. Even after he found it, he still made me see through the dare. I press my legs together in disgust.
I walk through the door of the GP and sit on the chair next to his desk, my leg shaking violently.
“Well,-”
“Please just tell me,” I interrupt. I can’t wait.
“It looks like it is breast cancer.”
And my world shatters around me.