Hi! This is my first fanfiction, be kind please!

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twitter: amandaleveille

Our love was like vines. It intruded through every pore, every flaw and grew. It entangled us together, it turned us dangerous. One couldn't touch us without feeling an itch. Itch to have we had. The thing about vines though; they restrict us. They suffocate the insides, at points; it felt like my heart was going to fall out my throat. I wasn't myself, I was an us, and that scared me. I was fifteen, I hardly knew who I was on my own, and now I was tied to another person. I was losing myself. The vines hadn't just tangled us, they engulfed us.

I ripped free, and started breathing. But my other half was struggling. My other half was just a half, as was I, and without me, he felt like he was nothing. I couldn't tell him he was far from it. I was scared of the vines. I was scared of our love.

It wasn't long before the air was too sharp for my weak lungs. I couldn't breathe this air, not on my own. I tried, I tried so hard, but it was only so long before I realized that while I untangled myself, my other half had as well. And he could breathe without me.

"So what's wrong with me?" I tried to laugh at first, but ended up in a sigh, my mother gripping my hand. I was lying on back on the chair looking at the lights, praying somehow I would turn blind and not see the look of pity on the doctor's face. I knew what was wrong. Birth defect, and I knew my chances of living were slim, as I drowned out the noise and watched the sadness cloud the room. Breathe in, breathe out.

"I'm so sorry Clare," I heard over my struggles to complete a simple task, "I will do whatever it takes."

"Hm?" I murmured, I wasn't focusing on what was going on. I had only heard the 5 words that mattered now.

"Clare needs a heart transplant."

"Clare," I turned softly towards the repeating sound. Clare; bright, famous.

"Was it a dream?" I say half-heartedly – ha, punny. I clenched the pounding in my chest, looking up at the sad eyes that greeted me. Not green, never green.

"No." Jake sighed, helping me up.

"Jake what's with you acting so sad? It's like someone is dying!" I joke as he helps me into a chair. He rolls me down the hallway, and helps me again as I get into the bathroom. He doesn't know how to joke with me anymore. I was dying. "I'll be okay," I try, smiling for my step-brother.

"I know. I'm praying for you everyday."

"I'm not. It's hard to believe in God when he's forcing me to six feet under. 'All God does is watch us and kill us when we get boring. We must never, ever beboring'" I quote maliciously, my heart aching as memories seep into my mind. It's been months since I've seen him. Hardly anyone knew about my condition, I doubted he wanted to know. I bet he would be happy to see me now. Weak, fragile… dying. I'm sorry, it's such a harsh word. I'm trying to cope, and come to terms by saying it. Dying, there, not so hard.

I gritted my teeth, thinking of him made my head swirl. I missed him. The transplant list was miles long, and I wasn't so important. I was as good as dead. Whoa, too soon, I thought, flinching at my own thoughts.

"Jake. I need a favor."

"Anything." There desperation in his breath, pity in his eyes.

Eli.

"I need to see Eli."