Bliss

11 - Sky

The day moves slowly, yet quickly at the same time. There is nothing to do, but it seems like the sun doesn't mind if we're having fun or not, determined to keep time rolling at a fast and steady pace. It's like an hour ago, we all woke up. Now, the sun is at its highest point in the sky.

I'm not sure why I wore dress this Sunday. I used to wear them all the time when Ingrid and I were younger, and we had different housemates. Siena wasn't assigned a home then and Lily must have been with us, but my memories are clouded. The latest memory of Lily that I have is her offering me a worm. She had picked it up on the tip of a stick one morning after a night of pouring rain, held it up to my face, and shouted in her nasally, three-year-old voice: "Eat it!"

I take a deep breath and shake my head.

Ingrid and I are sitting on the couch. Her head is hanging low over a stack of playing cards that Maya found for us at the antique shop. I always find the antique shops fascinating, because it's interesting to see how people made by with more than they need. They always smell musty and contain hundreds and hundreds of useless trinkets spread hastily over foldable plastic tables.The deck in Ingrid's hand is different from the ones I've seen before. It'd black, and on the back of each card, colorful letters spell out the word "Uno."

"Do you think Siena will be okay?" Ingrid asks after a long pause. She finally lifts her head, staring emptily at the windows beyond the TV. "I know I've asked this before, but . . . I just--I'm worried, Sky. I--I'm worried like last time. And I don't mean to bring it up like that. I'm sorry. But . . . remember when we almost lost you?" The words tumble out of her mouth, too quickly, and it takes me a moment to register just what memory she's talking about.

Oh, yeah. I was ten then. It was the year when I was diagnosed with APS. I take a deep breath, gulp. "Do . . . do you think Siena has it, too?"

"I caught the virus, but I didn't have it. I don't have it now, either. And it's not contagious; you have to be born with it. So no, I don't think so."

APS is short for Abnormality Prone Syndrome. It's the weakening of the immune system, the bones, and sometimes, the heart muscle. We've never been explained the details as how this syndrome evolves, but one general rule was that you're born with it. The second general rule is that once you find out you have it, it's about time you die.

I was one of the exceptions.

We first found out when I was at the playground, playing with a boy I thought was a girl because his blonde, choppy hair was too long, licking up at his shoulders, and because his face looked feminine. Out of nowhere, I was sneezing uncontrollably. My head was pounding. The sneezes turned to hacking coughs, and the hacking coughs turned to vomiting. Maya rushed me to the hospital, where they inserted several long needles into my arms and connected them to a series of clear bags filled to the top with eerily-colored fluids. Just like that, I was fine, but only for a day or so. The new episode was at the mall; the same procedure, but more painful. My trip at the hospital was longer. It kept going on like this for a month before the doctors, who only kept a loose record of my past visits, noticed a pattern--Maya thought it was about time--and diagnosed me with APS.

Most of the citizens in Oceania have all of the immunizations, and so do I, but the doctors said that there are no cures for colds. I will always be catching them, he said, because my immune was weaker. Not only that, but apparently my body had adverse reactions to everything in the air. Eventually, it would all weaken me out. I would die. But then, I turned fourteen, and it all went away.

Almost all of it. Then the other incident happened.

I just don't want to think about that one right now.