The Future isn't Bright

Twenty-Two

Donna?

         A voice called from behind me. I whirled around, hair whipping onto my face. As I brushed the hair from my mouth, I noticed a blurry figure facing me. Although he was within arm’s length of me, I could not make out his unclear face, as if he stood a mile away. I stepped forward, but was abruptly stopped by a force that repelled me backwards. I gasped as my hand shot back, stinging. The man seemed to be enclosed in a space unreachable by me. I placed my hands on the force again, receiving the same sick feeling as before.

Suddenly, the figure came into view. With brown hair and the eyes that used to admire me throughout my childhood, the materialization of my father appeared before me.

“Dad!” I pleaded, “I’ll get you out, I promise!”

My father chuckled deeply.

“I’m not the one that needs saving,” he said in a tone so cold it made the hairs on my arms stand on end. The temperature seemed to drop, and although the person before looked and breathed like my father, he seemed distant and discomforting. I took a step back, then another, until I reached another wall. Jumping forward in pain, I looked up at my father, who stared at me like an exhibit. I put my arms out to my sides, making them hit two more walls. I was trapped.

“Trapped like the monster you are,” he mused, “No wonder we couldn’t raise you normally for so many years.”

“W-We?” I whimpered.

“Yes, Donna,” I whipped around again, face-to-face with my mother. I sunk down to my knees.

“You were never good enough,” she spat, observing me like a foul piece of garbage.

“Mom…” I pleaded, tears forming in my eyes. I let my eyelids close, keeping tears from flowing.

Worthless.

I shut my eyes tighter

Unimportant.  

I clasped my hands over my ears, but the voices continued, streaming their harsh whispers in to my mind.

Mistake.

“STOP!” I yelled out into nothingness, waking up from my nightmare.

My face was wet with a combination of sweat and tears. I breathed rapidly, heaving my chest up until I was in a straight sitting position. Unfortunately, I had underestimated my height and overestimated the height of the bed, making my forehead collide with the bottom of Lana’s bunk. I bit my lip in pain, not daring to make any noise and wake Lana up. I bit down harder in anticipation, but Lana simply groaned and rocked the bed as she changed her sleeping position. I exhaled deeply as I touched my forehead gently, making my fingertips come away with blood. I groaned in frustration as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and hopped out toward the bathroom.

~*~

I silently flipped the book page with my index finger, not daring to make any noise. My head was bandaged with a makeshift gauze I made from a towel. I had been tossing and turning in my new bed for what seemed like an eternity. I eventually gave up on sleep, and I stuck to reading Grandmother's book with a flashlight I had located at the bottom of my suitcase. Just the thought of her made me want to cry. She was one of the strongest and most stubborn ladies I had ever met, but that didn't exactly give anyone an advantage in a cancer battle.  

The fact that Grandmother refused typical treatment made me really angry when she first told me. If she'd just have the treatment, I would have at least had her guaranteed for at least some time. The time might have been limited, sure, but it was something.