Unpacking, and a ghost from the past.

I had a day off work so I offered to help Scott unpack some more of her things.
We started in her attaic, going through her boxes of old papers that she took with her when she moved out of her parents house.
I opened the tiny window as rays of sunlight shone on the dancing dust in the air of the little wooden room.
i looked around the tiny space and went to grab a box that was placed beside me.
"Not that one." Scott shook her head at me.
"Why not? We're going to have to go trhough it anyway"
"Not yet." She said as she looked behind her. With a smile she found a different box and tossed it to me.
It was her keep sake box. It looked like a little tresure chest.
Why on earth did she want me to look through this? I shurgged and sat on the floor, proping mysefl against the box she didn't want me to go through yet.
I opend the chest in my hands and saw tons of faded papers. I looked up at her. "Are you sure you want me to look at these?"
"Yep." She sounded as if she really didn't care, almost distant.
Well, okay.
The first paper I took out had my hand writing on it.
Ugh! another poem I worte..only this time it wasn't a good-bye one, it was a don't forget me one. From when I was diagnosed with Melinoma when I was 17. It never turned into much, it was easily gotten rid of with just the removal of the spot and then a skin graph to confrim that all the affected cells were gone.
But the fact I had cancer had me worried I going to die.
So I worte this

Leave out All the Rest:

One life, One time, One chance
Just once around the circle before the end of the dance.

What will I be remembered for?
I'm not a mother, never a good daughter; I hid behind my door.

My friendship with you was my only value
How I will be remembered is up to you

Tell only of the things I did best
Otherwise leave out all the rest

I will never go out in a balze of glory
But no one needs to know the downs in my story.

I have never been perfect, it's true.
But remember neither have you

I don't expect my tale to linger
All I ask is that my story never be bitter.

In my death recall me at my best
But please, my friend, leave out all the rest.

I sighed. She saved everything I ever wrote..which is what this chest contianed. Only the things I worte and gave to her.
Thats why she wanted me to do through this first, I understood it now.
I showed her everything I ever thought and feared, for so long she was only friend. The only thing I could count on, rely on. She was the light that brought me out of the darkness in my mind. My very best friend, and really the only family I had.
But not anymore.
Now I have more then just her. I have Greg, Coleman and Hale.
This is her hint, her way of saying I should show thoes people the same things I've shown her. Their just as big of a part of me as she now... I don't need to keep them in the dark.

"Nice" I grunted, slightly annoyed.
I can't show them this, any of them. I let her in because she could save me when all I wanted to do was die. She knew me, respected me and tried to understand me. Which is more then anyone else did. So I came to her for help..and our friendship grew from that.
I can't let the others in.

"It's time, Shannon." Her brown eyes were big and pleading. Her blonde hair hung down by her face...and she looked exactly as she did the last time she said that to me all thoes years ago. Afride. She was afride of my backlash afride that I may just turn and go.
But just like last time I narrowed my eyes.
"I'm not ready yet." Said in the same tone I used then.
It's true. I'm not ready yet.

I don't need everyone I speak to knowing everything about me. Thats a risk I'm just not really willing to take yet.
And as for Greg, well, his sheild is as strong as mine...and we're okay with that. Which is good, if everyone else would keep out of it.

Scott grinned at me with her annoying patrinizing smile and shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever you say."
I gave her a glare, she had something up her sleve. From that sumg smile stuck on her face I take it she feels it'll work when she chooses to aumbush me with it.
We'll see.
With that thought came a mischvious grin of my own.
Let the games begin.
Her brown eyes met my hazel ones as she looked up from her organizing of photos on the floor. We both shook our head and chuckled at the same time.
She definatly has something planned to make me see the error of my ways, and I have a counter stirke working in the dark rcesses of my imagination. May the most creative win.
But until then, I'm stuck in my oppinates stuffy attaic sorting endless boxes. She's such a pack rat.