"Hi, my name is Lara ,I'm 23years old and Today, I found out I have a tumor in my brain, and I've only got 12 months to live."
I sat on the edge of my bed in my Chelsea apartment, the silence of the room feeling heavy. On the table laid a crumpled medical report—a few sheets of paper that had just turned my world upside down. The doctors talked about surgery, but they used words like "risk" and "uncertainty." I knew right then I didn't want my final memories to be the sterile smell of a hospital or the beep of a heart monitor. I didn't want to spend my last days being a patient"""""""
All my life I had hid myself I wasn't going to spend my last days in a hospital gown .I didn't want anybody's sympathy.
My mom already worried too much about me I wasn't going to tell her that I'd soon be dead
Forgive me mom """"""
All my life I just wanted to live a good life ,I ate healthy slept while I could I did everything possibly to live a good healthy life but in the end all I got was a stupid tumor growing inside of me
Like a ticking bomb about to go off
Why do bad things happen to good people I thought """"""
What's the point of sulking I'm still going to die ,
I stood up and walked to the full-length mirror, something I usually avoided. I looked at the person staring back. I'm a mix of my parents—my dad's Nigerian roots gave me these deep, obsidian-black eyes and skin like dark velvet, while my white mother passed down hair that grows thick and long, all the way down my back ,I had a smack body which people would call a eight or a ten
I wasn't chubby or anything I would call my body size normal
But looking at myself, I looked like a wreck. I had my hair shoved into a frizzy, neglected bun. I was wearing a moth-eaten, oversized brown sweater and trousers that swallowed my shape. I even had on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that felt heavy on my nose, even though my vision is perfectly fine.
I did this to myself on purpose""""
I thought back to that afternoon when I was a teenager, shortly after my parents divorced and I moved to the UK. I was just a girl walking home with her friend when a car pulled up. I remember the hands, the fear, and the dark room where I was held. They chose me because I was "pretty." They left my friend Sarah according to them I was much more prettier and that's why they chose me l thought to myself maybe If I wasn't pretty they wouldn't notice me,just maybe .
If the police hadn't burst through that door when they did, I wouldn't be here today, maybe dead or worst
I blamed my beauty because it seemed to be the only thing people ever saw I wished someone would see the real me ,the real Lara and not the beauty God had given to me .
It was so troubling walking on the road and heads turning as a young girl both elderly and young men approached me in as much as some people wished for a hot body like this with a pretty face all I ever wanted was for someone to see the real me .
Everybody wants to be pretty but mine only brought me trouble ,bad friends who never cared nothing good came from it ,I got tired of being praised as beautiful so I decided to hide behind terrible fashion and messy hair styles
She had a lithe, slim frame, but it wasn't just thin—it was shaped with an effortless, feminine flow. Her waist was remarkably narrow, dipping inward to create a sharp, delicate curve that led down to rounded, elegant hips. Her breasts were soft and full, perfectly proportional to her slender torso. Every line of her body was balanced, from the long, elegant slope of her neck to the subtle, athletic tone in her legs.
As Lara stood in front of the full-length mirror, the silence of her Chelsea apartment echoing around her. She slowly peeled away the layers—the heavy, shapeless sweater and the baggy trousers that had been her hiding place for a decade.
For the first time in years, she really looked at herself. She saw a body that was slim and elegant, with a waist that nipped in deeply to create a sharp, beautiful curve. Her breasts were soft and rounded, perfectly balancing her slender frame. Every line of her was delicate yet striking, from the obsidian glow of her eyes to the long, dark hair falling down her back.
She thought about the trauma that had made her hide, the fear that had kept her in oversized clothes and fake glasses. She had spent so long trying to look unattractive just to stay safe. But then she looked back at the medical report on the counter.
Twelve months.
The fear that had ruled her life suddenly felt small compared to the clock ticking in her head. She realized she had been so busy surviving that she had forgotten to actually live.
I'm not going to let my last days be all sad and dull
"""Haaaaaaa""""""
She let out a dry laugh ,
12 months 365 days it is ,
That's all that I've got ,better make the best of it .
I was still sitting there, my mind spinning with thoughts of my illness and the life I had spent hiding, when my phone started buzzing on the nightstand. It was Lady Martha.
Martha was the kind of boss who lived in a different world. She didn't even know me in person—we only spoke through the phone whenever she needed a new design or a fresh fashion trend to keep the company at the top. To her, I wasn't a person; I was just a machine that produced winning sketches and dresses with my illness now the thought of living this god damn job crossed my mind .
"Lara, pack your bags," Martha said, her voice sharp and hurried. "The branch we opened in South Korea is struggling. Your designs are the only ones making any real sales right now, so the company is sending you there to fix things. They need something different, something unique."""'
I opened my mouth to speak, to tell her that I wanted to quit, but she didn't give me a second. "The flight leaves at 6:00 AM tomorrow. Be ready."
"""""""""" Click""""""""""""""
I stared at the dead phone, dumbfounded. This company had spent years stressing me out, demanding my talent while never caring about my opinion or even knowing my face. I had worked so hard to get this job and keep it, even when I remained irrelevant in the office. Part of me wanted to call her back and decline, I was satisfied at first working there because to me working there was enough I felt that with time they would come to acknowledge me when they saw how productive I was but they never did,I did most of the work and Martha got all the praise that's the reality of the world .
Suddenly I thought of Camilla
***************
Camilla was the golden girl of the office, originally from America and carrying that effortless, polished confidence that seemed to make the air around her move differently. When she spoke, her American accent was smooth and melodic, and she was so fluent and charming that she could convince anyone of anything. She was the one who led the meetings and took the bows, always knowing exactly what to say to keep Lady Martha smiling.
Physically, Camilla was stunning in a way that felt almost cinematic. She had long, honey-blond hair that was always styled in perfect, bouncy waves that caught the light whenever she moved. Her eyes were a deep, piercing sapphire blue, framed by long lashes that made every look she gave seem intentional and captivating.
She had a classic, radiant beauty and she knew exactly how to highlight it. She dressed to kill, usually seen in sharp, designer blazers cinched at the waist or sleek pencil skirts that showed off her toned legs. Her makeup was always flawless—a perfect red lip or a subtle smoky eye that made her look like she had just stepped off a magazine cover. She was the center of attention not just because she was loud, but because she was genuinely pretty and carried herself like she was the most important person in the room.
""""Why didn't they send Camilla usually she was the one they sent for stuff like this I wonder what happened """""
Or maybe the can finally see me """I muttered to myself.
South Korea
South Korea
South Korea
South Korea.
It was my dream country. I had always wanted to see the neon lights of Seoul and the fashion there. This was the first time they had ever offered to send me abroad. Usually, they just locked me in a room until I came up with a design to win a competition.
I was happy for the first time in a long time ,maybe this isn't so bad afterwards I won't pay a dime and I get to see my dream country I really love the fashion In south Korea and China but never got an opportunity to work or go there or even meet someone from there,maybe God is finally answering my prayers .
This is a dream come true,I get to go to Korea and my company finally seems to see me and my efforts.
Lara your going to do your best ,your very best even when I die my name will be hung on the streets of Seoul.
Hahahaha """""" I let out a cheerful laugher
At least I get to do something I love
I looked at the clock. It was already late at night. The flight was in just a few hours. I looked at the mirror—at my dull, baggy clothes and my neglected hair. I didn't have enough time to go to a salon or buy a whole new wardrobe before 6:00 AM.
I really wanted to look my best for Korea but no worries I can always get clothes there ,and get to understand their fashion sense more
Alright then
"I'll go," I whispered to the quiet room and let out a deep sigh
I decided right then that I would take this opportunity. I would leave this grey life in London behind. I couldn't change my look tonight, but as soon as I touched down in Korea, everything would change. I'd do my hair there, buy the clothes ,do my best ,dress up go out spend time with people make new friends and spend my last twelve months being the Lara I was meant to be.
I grabbed my suitcase and started packing, a small real smile finally touching my dimples.
Seoul here I come !!!!!