How The Colors Change

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

She stares at the ceiling, which, a few minutes ago, was pitch black.

The sunlight peeking through the curtains intensifies by the minute. The burnt beige color of the ceiling begins to fully appear.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The clock on her bed-side table does not go to sleep. Neither does she.

She gets up, a throbbing headache causing her to lose balance for a few seconds.

She draws the curtains, hoping a sudden gush of light would make her feel something.

But, she feels nothing. She stares at the outside world which is colored a burnt beige.

Was life always this monochromatic?

She drags herself to the kitchen. She opens the refrigerator and scans the racks until she comes across eggs. Her headache amplifies; her breathing pattern jerks. "It's just eggs," she thinks to herself. "Just eggs."

Closing the silver refrigerator door, she takes a quick glance at her distorted reflection. Her skin pale, her hair matted to her head, her face slimmer than it has ever been.

Then, she giggles. A giggle of mockery. Disgusted at what she has become, she laughs at herself. At this moment, she could have been sitting in the front row of a lecture hall, a wide grin spread across her face, and a brain that absorbs knowledge like a sponge. But, now, she is at home, too tired for her face's muscles to curl into a smile, too tired to even sleep.

All she can do is stare at a ceiling.

She walks back to her room with nothing but a glass of water half empty.

She turns on her phone, and taps on 'WhatsApp'.

Father

March 10, 2022

Dad, I did five minutes of exercise today! Isn't that great? 4:07AM

March 13, 2022

Hi Dad, I'm about to go outside and get some vitamin D! Gotta try and be healthy, haha. 2:43PM

I'm feeling a bit dizzy. Maybe tomorrow... 2:45PM

March 14, 2022

Happy birthday! 12:00AM

Thursday

Hi Dad! How's everything? Hope you're doing OK. 7:11AM

Saturday

I'm thinking of ordering a Tim Horton's drink for breakfast. Should I get an iced chocolate mocha or a hot chocolate? 11:27AM

My hot chocolate is here! Yum. 12:13PM

Yesterday

Sorry for texting you so much about everything. 3:04AM

She stares at the illuminated screen for a few seconds. Her eyes become foggy with tears as she types:

"I hate you."

And sends.

✻

Many years have passed. She is staring at a ceiling. It is colored a bright beige.

"Mom?" a sweet, youthful voice calls.

"Yes, sweetie?" she answers.

"Can you take a look at my paper before I submit it?"

"Of course," she says.

Printed at the top, in a larger font than the rest of the page, are the words: 'Cigarette Smoking as a Risk Factor for Lung Cancer'.

She smiles. A smile of pride.

"This sounds like it's going to be very interesting, sweetie," she says, slightly choking on her words.

She sits at her desk which is covered in books and piles of papers. She picks up her phone and goes to 'WhatsApp'. She types:

"Hi Dad,

I miss you.

I'm sorry I'm texting you less and less these days. I've been very busy with my work and family.

My therapist says I need to stop texting you in order to truly move on. I don't know what moving on means, Dad. Does it mean forgetting you? I know that'll never happen. Everything I see reminds me of you. Even eggs.

My daughter wrote a paper about lung cancer. I read the title and thought of you. She asked me to proofread it. I wish you could've met her before you passed away. She's very intelligent. I think she takes a lot after you.

This will probably be the last time I text you. But that doesn't mean I'll forget you – I never will.

Before I go, I just wanted to apologize for everything. I'm sorry I was a bad daughter. I'm sorry for all the sacrifices you had to make because of me. Most importantly, I'm sorry I couldn't help you when you were drowning all alone.

And, I'm sorry I said I hated you. I didn't mean it. I hope you know that. I hated myself, and took out that hatred on you. I'm sorry.

I can't wait to see you once again, in heaven.

I love you so much. I always have, and always will.

Your daughter, xxxxx."

She puts down her phone, drinks from her glass of water which is half full, and begins reading her daughter's paper.