Sixteen. Sixteen days until my life ends. Sixteen days before I'm eaten from the inside out. Sixteen days of being sorry for myself. Three hundred and eighty four. Three hundred and eighty four hours. Three hundred and eighty four hours to make a change. To make my mark. Twenty three thousand and forty. Twenty three thousand and forty minutes. Twenty three thousand and forty minutes to breath. To conquer my fears. To do the unexpected. One million three hundred eighty two thousand and four hundred. One million three hundred eighty two thousand and four hundred seconds. One million three hundred eighty two thousand and four hundred seconds to experience. To absorb every moment. One million three hundred eighty two thousand and four hundred seconds to smile and laugh.
Why did I divide sixteen days into hours? And then hours into minutes? And then minutes into seconds? Because, one million three hundred eighty two thousand and four hundred doesn't sound as hair raising, spine chilling, or nerve crackling as sixteen days. I don't know that I have sixteen days left. I never say sixteen days until you're at peace. I only know of one million three hundred eighty two thousand and four hundred seconds, because every second counts. To tell myself that sixteen was all that was left, made me jump out of my skin. I will not jump out of my skin. I will stay safe in the comfort of my skin until I'm set free from it.
YOU ARE READING
Sixteen Until Infinity
AdventureHarper Jones is dying from chronic renal kidney failure. She has stopped wondering why she has not yet had a kidney donor and is living out her last sixteen days to the fullest. Follow Harper in her last few seconds as she journeys through death and...
