Every Day is a Different Story

Have you ever looked in a mirror, and doubted that the person looking back at you was you at all?
And have you ever imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that one day, 5 minutes, on test result, could change your life forever?
Jasper Nixon had been tested for acute leukemia exactly three week ago. But when the results came back positive, they took him to a clinic. Away from his family and the world he knew. He could've said friends, if he had any.
The clinic was cold and desolate. But it was the silence that bothered Jasper the most. That not any life was moving. And the only movement was down. Patients slipped away into a dark place in their minds that no one could reach them. Jasper was one of them. He no longer felt like he would ever leave. Or that healthy bone marrow was enough to save him. At this point he wasn't sure anything material could save him. Not his medication, not bone marrow, not an expensive therapist. But it wasn't him that slowly slipped away. It was his hope.
Who am I? Fable me not a guide or a therapist. Nor someone Jasper knew or knows. So who I am? I am Jasper. The boy you may have already grown to hate after just 220 words.
Quickly my thoughts were interrupted.
"Jasper?"
I looked over at the door. A tall blonde woman stood in the door way.
"The clinic has started a new program for the patients. We're gathering patients of the same age and giving them time to socialize. You see, recently we've noticed how lonely and depressed the patients are. If you would be willing to participate, any one is welcome to."
I didn't want that. People who knew nothing about me just goggling at me, sorry that I got put in their age group. If I wanted that, I would've gone back to school.
"No. No thank you." My gaze was blank and forward. But I could tell the woman wanted me to.
"It is completely voluntary. I hope you change your mind." She shot a quick smile and left, closing the door behind her.
I rested my head back on the bed. I lifted my hand and twisted the ring on my ring finger. A habit. It reminded me on Madison, my sister. Maybe the only thing that I was sorry I had to leave behind. She never treated me like my parents or the kids at school. She was just a genuinely nice person. I guess that's hard to find anymore. But she was back in New Jersey and I was stuck here. But someday I would see her again. I closed my eyes. Someday. The last word mildly hopeful that I could say or think or breathe. Someday.