Victoria, Denmark, late January 2022
I pull the curtains open, letting into the room the white light that another cold and cloudy day brings, turning around from the windows I look towards my messy bed, tempted to get back in and spend my day far away from all problems and the monotony that has engulfed me for the last few months, but I can't. As soon as I hear my alarm clock go off, I know I have to go to my everyday duty.
I catch my hair in a ponytail quickly, as I direct myself to the kitchen where I prepare a fast breakfast before nicely placing it on a tray and going to her room. I knock lightly, holding the tray against my hip and I slowly crack the door open, looking inside the dark space, a sign that she's still sleeping. I approach her bed silently and leave the food next to her.
"Mom, wake up," I whisper, touching her shoulder lightly. I stay still for a moment, looking at her chest, making sure there are still breathing movements. "Mom," I try once again, this time successfully, "breakfast's ready," I let her know and she sits up slowly, allowing me to place the tray over her lap.
"Thank you," she mumbles quietly, before starting to eat, while I go and lay down, curling up next to her.
When she's finished, I get up, moving automatically as I go towards her nightstand, taking the weekly pillbox and opening the corresponding compartment for today. I hand her her medicines and I fill her glass with water and hand it to her as well. She gives it back to me after she's done and turns around in her spot, falling back asleep. I bend over and peck her forehead, while looking up to the IV bag that's hanging on its stand, next to the bed making sure everything is in order as I proceed to leave the room, after grabbing the tray with a barely touched plate on it. While placing the dirty plates in the sink, I suddenly hear my phone ringing so I hurry out on the terrace as I look at the ID on the screen– Thomas.
"Ciao, Vic! How are you?" asks him from the other line, while I take a seat at the table on the balcony, taking a cigarette out of the pack that has been left there since the previous night.
"Ciao, cucciolo, I'm okay," I respond him after lighting my cigarette and inhaling my dose of tobacco to then puff it out, "just tired, you know,"
"How's your mother doing?" inquires him, with a caring tone.
"Same, nothing can really change at this point," I reply, repeating my actions of taking the cigarette from between my lips and taking a deep breath, fighting the tears that are gathering in my eyes. "Can we talk about something else?" I almost beg him to take me out of my dire monotony "I'm just so tired," admit, my voice breaking.
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Runaway | Damoria
Fanfiction"How long is it going to take for the battle inside of ourselves to be over?" That's the question she kept asking herself just before her battle was over, as another one begun.
