20 Days Gone

2

Day 2:

What used to be the whipping wind of the dark, blue sky, it all turned to a violent, powerful storm in just the span of a few hours. The sky was crying, and it was crying everything out.

I didn't even have the tears to cry.

Thankfully, the session ended way earlier that what my mother and I had expected, and home was in our sight by the time the first sizzle of lighting flashed right before my eyes.

For some reason, I wanted to get hit by that blue, electrifying light. I wanted to get struck by lightning, as the world would wave me goodbye.

That was guilt.

"Kiddo, the session for today got pulled back for tomorrow. The day is yours so I'm wondering if... Ryan? You even there?" That familiar hint of concern wrapped around my mother's voice was heard through the door which was the only thing preventing her from reaching me.

Just like last time, huh?

I could tell how much she wanted to break down the door, tear it down, shatter it to pieces. It was normal, she was my mother. I could figure out how annoyed she was at the lack of availability.

Space was not a thing for me. Not a vital thing I would have needed at this time. I didn't even need to act so... so emotional. Why was I even doing this to myself? Knowing my mother, she slapped the hinges connecting the door to the wall, before sighing a big, heavy worrisome sigh. I could hear the steps fading as she turned away from me and walked away.

Walked away-

Stop reminding yourself. This is the problem with you- remembering. Stop reminiscing the past.

I silently appreciated her everlasting patience. My mother really was someone else at this point, from roaring at me over petty things to the concern, love and patience that she had. She knew I'd release myself from this prison I created for myself in due course.

She had forged patience for me, just like how another person had. Just like how he had when she used to be with me, the infinite amount of patience.

"You can tell me if you aren't alright-" I was surprised that she was back here, at the door, without me even knowing. I immediately cut her off, the annoyance engulfing me like how fire does to paper.

"I'm not alright. I'm not alright, I'm not alright, I'm not alright!" I laced annoyance with every breath I exhaled for her to listen to. "You know I'm not alright, you don't need to remind me. Honestly, I want to lash out and scream and thrash everything, cry my heart out until my heart stops beating. But I can't do it; I'm weak, I'm weak! That session was supposed to help make me stronger, but I'm acting so emotional when I don't even have to, when I don't want to! I created the decision for the two of us, right? I did it for us, for us! And here you are, asking me if I'm alright and you very well know I am? Who would be alright at this situation? I would be insane if I am-"

"You're insane, Ryan," I remembered Lauren, her words, her sweet voice, and that laugh I would never stop listening to. "You're really insane."

I stopped, out of breath. I started to cough, cough, harder and harder and harder each time. Breathing heavily while coughing roughly, I slowly sunk into the bed. I had just lashed everything out in front of my mother's face.

Finding out a new side from me, I was expecting the worst scolding I would ever receive.

Opening the door slowly and seeing me lying face down on the bed, my lungs still functioning at an abnormal speed, she slowly walked to my side and pulled me close.

"Cry it out, kiddo," my mother said with a tone that I had never heard before, a mix of emotions all fit into one. "You'll feel better."

"I'll do it when you're back outside."

That was a lie. The very first worthless lie I had ever said to my mother. I didn't want her to see me bust my heart out, who would want to?

But before I could hear another word from my mother, before I could speak out another white lie to her, my eyes just closed themselves and I dropped to the bed, no longer conscious.

I woke up to a blast of white lights, the smell of medicine strong in the room. I continued to stare at the bright light, hoping everything would have just ended. The feeling called regret kept circulating me, regret of doing what I could never change again.

What were the exact words I had said? "We need this. You need this. Just twenty days, alright?" I could remember the look I gave you at that time, I could clearly remember.

Sometimes, at times like this, when I think back at all that I had done, said, everything - regret would wash over me, engulf me full until I choke on the thought. And it was okay, I deserved this. You get what you deserve right?

I was okay with the regret.

I wasn't okay with regretting myself. I just had to get through these twenty days right?

"He only had five percent of water in his entire body, and he lacked seventy more." I turned my head and saw a doctor-

That was the woman from the session. Lydia, was that her name? It seemed like she had the skills of a doctor as well. The word 'dehydration' kept running around the room as she turned to me.

"Ryan only, you are in deep trouble."

That was when I felt the warm comfort of my mother's arms for the second time in my life. The sound of sobbing, 'are you okay?'s and tighter holding reverberated throughout the empty room.

The empty, white room.

Maybe that described me. Empty inside. No tears, and literally no water. I tried to raise my voice enough for her to hear my please.

"That tube..." I managed to mutter before she let go of me, realising the huge, painful tube stuck deep into my bony arm. I coughed again, which sent strokes of pain to my throat. My dry throat.

That tube was probably water.

I looked at the clock. 9 in the evening. I tried to chuckle to myself, but was in vain. More pain reached my throat as soon as I tried to.

You would have read that voicemail right now, that voicemail that took 5 minutes of hesitation before sending. I didn't know whether I should send it to you, your broken heart... I simply did not want to shatter it, stomp it on the ground.

But we had to get through these 20 Days, right?

"You're completely dehydrated," Lydia pointed at the checking system behind her, which showed that there was only 7 percent of water in my body, which I had assumed evaporated because of all the crying I had to put myself through. "During the operation, you nearly died. There was a flatline for a second there. We're all glad you're still able to smile right now."

I guess I really was insane, smiling right after a near death. Smiling at absolutely nothing, for absolutely no reason.

It was simple. 20 Days Without You was equal to my near death, and 95 percent of lost water.

Hey, Lauren, did you hear me? I couldn't live without you, I simply couldn't. Day 2 and I nearly died, missing you.