Sweeter Than Sugar

2:2 The Art of Denial

2:2

          Sometimes it almost feels like she can see the light at the end of the tunnel as she works ridiculous hours to find odd jobs in order to tackle the cascade of bills that seem to capsize on her every chance that they get as the months come roaring in. Amari stands there in the middle of the women's bathroom with a mop at hand as her gaze remains paced at the world outside of her own. The windows across the room from her always seem to paint a dreamlike moment in time that she can't ever get a grasp of. There is an emptiness in her eyes that taints her presence as she reminisces on her past.

          The sound of the bathroom door swaying back and forth doesn't shake her attention nor does the sight of the young girls next to her washing their hands joyfully, bother her. The euphoric feeling that Amari is experiencing is all too familiar as she feels her feet trace softly upon the tile floors beneath her. This can't be her life, this can't be it for her. Amari refuses to believe that she will die of old age here trap between a mop and a filthy bathroom floor, wasting away as she cleans the imperfection of her life through what if's.

"Excuse us," the girls giggle amongst themselves as they awkwardly dance cautiously around Amari who stands in front of the garbage can that they are trying to reach.

          Yet, Amari doesn't budge as she continues to mop the floor to and fro. From time to time her eyes escape their point of focus as they wander to the panoramic windows ahead. The weight of her regrets sits heavily on her shoulders as her head bows to the ground, today is a beautiful day but for her, it feels like another dark cloud has shrunken the last gleam of hope that she has. There, silently she remains dancing a dreadful dance with life that she would like to take a break from, side to side, up and down she goes. The incoherent sound of her phone sitting in her side pocket loops her out of her trance as she looks at the mop in her hands. 

Quickly she answers.

"Ms. Michaels how are you doing today, this is doctor Barkley," she hears.

The room spins around her uncontrollably as her back takes root to one of the walls nearby. "Hi-i," Amari hiccups softly in disbelief as she tries to catch her senses. 

"I am calling you in regards to Iman's test results. His kidneys seem to struggle with the current medication that he is on, so I am calling you to let you know that it is detrimental to his health and that we need to change it immediately," doctor Barkley's warm voice informs her calmly as he knows that the sudden news might cause the woman on the other line to panic.

Amari sighs softly.

"Doctor Barkley I am barely making it by with the first set of medications that you have him on. How much is this new one going to cost," the stress is there in Amari's voice as it cracks a few times she is trying her best to gain control of her emotions.

"We're looking close to a thousand dollars and he needs six months' worth of that medication. I am trying my best to keep his retention level in check. He's been on a lot of diuretics and I am trying to lessen the load on his kidneys," the doctor explains as he goes over a few more numbers with Amari.

          There is only so much her health insurance is willing to pay for Iman's medications. Iman is her youngest son, out of her set of twins. She never thought that at the age of forty-five she'd end up with two more kids, but there she was pregnant with them unexpectedly and due to a few complications during her labor, Iman became ill. By the grace of a higher power, she was able to take both of her boys home from the hospital, but now Iman faced a heart condition that could someday take his life. It is a life in which she's tried hard to keep going despite the endless nights of tears, fever, body aches and trembling fear Amari has been through it all just for her kids.