CHRONOLOGY

STAGE ONE:

• I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN I ARRIVE AT CROSS COUNTRY PRACTICE IN THE HEAT OF JULY. MY GLASSES ARE SLIPPING OFF THE BRIDGE OF MY NOSE AND I LEFT MY PHONE IN THE CAR. MY HEART CLENCHES WHEN I REALIZE I AM THE ONLY FRESHMAN. 

• MY HEART CLENCHES TIGHTER WHEN I FALL SO FAR BEHIND I CANNOT SEE THE RUNNER IN FRONT OF ME. 

• I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD AND I AM SO FRUSTRATED WITH MYSELF, I CRY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. IT IS THE FIRST TIME I HAVE EVER CALLED MYSELF A FAILURE. 

• I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD AND NO ONE KNOWS WHY I CAN'T RUN. I AM ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE. I HAVE NO ANSWER. 

• I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD AND NOTHING IS WORKING. MELATONIN DOESN'T HELP ME SLEEP. CAFFEINE DOESN'T KEEP ME AWAKE. VITAMINS DON'T GIVE ME ENERGY. I AM YELLED AT WHEN MY PARENTS REALIZE MY GRADES ARE DROPPING. 

• I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD AND THERE IS A NEEDLE IN MY ARM, A LAST RESORT TO UNDERSTAND WHY I FEEL AS IF I HAVEN'T SLEPT FOR A WEEK. SO MUCH BLOOD IS DRAWN THAT I ALMOST SHRIEK, BUT THEN IT'S OVER AND THE DOCTOR SMILES AT ME. I DON'T SMILE BACK, AND I TELL MYSELF I WON'T UNTIL THEY FIND OUT WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME. 

• I AM FOURTEEN AND THE DOCTOR CALLS IT 'ANEMIA'. I QUICKLY LEARN THE MEANING AND THE SOURCE OF MY MISERY. IT COMES FROM MY DAD'S SIDE OF THE FAMILY, IRONICALLY THE MOST RELIGIOUS. 

• "GOD ALWAYS DELIVERS," THEY TELL ME. 

• "THEN WHY DID HE WAIT SO LONG?" I ASK. 

STAGE TWO:

• I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN A RELATIVE DIES FROM AN ILLNESS WORSE THAN MINE. FOURTEEN IS WHEN I AM OLD ENOUGH TO REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS. 

• I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN A TEACHER ASKS WHAT I WANT TO BE WHEN I GROW UP. I ANSWER "A WRITER" WITHOUT HESITATION AS MY EYES FLICK TO THE EMPTY SEAT OF THE GIRL WHO'S BEEN OUT SICK FOR A WEEK. 

• I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN A FRIEND LEAVES MY PATHETIC BIRTHDAY PARTY WITH A NASALLY VOICE AND TISSUES SCRUNCHED IN HER HAND, HEADS FOR HER MOM WAITING IN THE DRIVEWAY. I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN A FRIEND BLOWS OFF MY PARTY ENTIRELY. 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN I BEGIN TO START DOUBTING PEOPLE. 

STAGE THREE:

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN THE EBOLA OUTBREAK MAKES NATIONAL NEWS. THE NEWS ANCHOR REASSURES ME THAT I AM SAFE AND NOT TO WORRY. 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD AND THE DISEASE HAS SPREAD THROUGH BIGGER CHUNKS OF AFRICA. I AM MESMERIZED BY THE DOCTORS IN WHITE SUITS THAT LOOK FIT TO COMBAT RADIATION. THE APOCALYPSE, EVEN. 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN I FIRST HEAR SOMEONE YELL "EBOLA!" WHEN I COUGH. 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN I REALIZE THAT NO ONE HAS THE CAPACITY TO TAKE THINGS SERIOUSLY. I SEND ANOTHER PRAYER FULL OF FALSE HOPE TO A GOD I'M TOLD EXISTS AND RECEIVE NO SIGN THAT HE HEARD IT. 

STAGE FOUR: 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD AND I AM KEEPING TALLIES ON MY BULLETIN OF THE PEOPLE IN MY CHURCH WHO HAVE CONTRACTED CANCER. 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD, AND ON THE SAME DAY I REALIZE GOD IS UNFAIR. ON THE SAME DAY I QUESTION IF GOD CARES. 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN I AM TOLD ANOTHER RUNNER ON THE CROSS COUNTRY TEAM HAS A BROTHER WHO TRIED TO COMMIT SUICIDE. I THINK OF THE HORIZONTAL SCARS ON MY SISTER'S WRISTS AND HEAR THE PSYCHIATRIST CALLING HER "SICK IN THE HEAD" AGAIN. 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD RUNNING AT AN INVITATIONAL MEET. I FEEL LIGHT AND MOVE LIKE LIGHTNING AND RELISH IN THE FACT THAT I'M NOT SICK ANYMORE. 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD AND I SEE A GIRL WITH DOUBLE BRAIDS AND A PURPLE HEADBAND CLUTCHING HER ANKLE IN THE MUD. SHE CRIES OUT FOR HELP AND HER FROWN DISTORTS THE FRECKLES ON HER FACE. 

• I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN I FIND OUT THAT IF A RUNNER HELPS ANOTHER PERSON CROSS THE FINISH LINE, THEY ARE BOTH DISQUALIFIED. I LEARN I AM NOT ALLOWED TO HELP PEOPLE ANYMORE. 

STAGE FIVE:

• I AM SIXTEEN YEARS OLD AND STILL TRYING TO HELP PEOPLE. I FINALLY REALIZE THAT NO ONE IS ACTUALLY TAKING MY ADVICE. I AM SIXTEEN YEARS OLD AND I AM NOT PREVENTING ANYTHING I PROMISED MYSELF I WOULD ONE, TWO, THREE YEARS AGO. 

• I AM SIXTEEN YEARS OLD, BOMBING CHEMISTRY, YET STILL ANSWERING "PATHOLOGIST" WHEN ASKED WHAT I WANT TO BE WHEN I GRADUATE FROM COLLEGE. 

• I AM SIXTEEN YEARS OLD AND ASKING MYSELF, "MAYBE GOD LEFT US HERE TO FEND FOR OURSELVES?" 

• "MAYBE GOD LEFT US?"

DEATHBED:

• I AM SIXTEEN YEARS OLD AND EVERYONE IS SICK, INCLUDING MYSELF. PEOPLE LOOK AT ME LIKE I'M AN IDIOT AND A FRAUD WHEN I TELL THEM I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIX IT. 

• I AM SIXTEEN YEARS OLD AND I AM ALWAYS ASKING MY FRIENDS

"WILL YOU STILL BE HERE

WHEN THIS VIRUS LEAVES ME CHOKING,

WHEN THIS SICKNESS LEAVES ME DEAD?"