I opened my eyes, slowly. Blinking way the sleep that blurred my sight, I took several deep breaths.
" The same dream again?" My mother's voice asked, filling my room.
Her voice was like honey silk, bouncing off of my walls. ecoing in my mind, ringging in my ears.
" Yes." I answered flatly.
My silky voice ecoed in my lightless room. I wanted to sit up, but could not find the strength. I felt so weak and helpless. It wasn't right. I felt so feable. My heart began to accelerate.
" Calm down my dear. Calm down." My mother begged.
I could hear the pleading his her voice, along with the sadness from her heart. Her eyes also begged me to get well. Ever sense my birth I had been... ill. There was no cure. There was no antidote. No doctor could help me.
" Mother," I groaned. I gasped for air. " The tea."
My voice was a little more than a whisper.
" Martha! The tea." My mother called.
I could here the tears in her voice, and feel the tears about to disperse from my eyes. I felt like I was dieing. I could feel dealths cold claws gripping my soul. I felt my body go cold, my soul exiting my body. My vision blackened.
" Drink this, love." My mother's voice pleaded. Her voice sounded far off, and other worldly. I barely felt the cup touch my lips. I barly noticed the warm liquid entering my mouth. " Please dear."
My throat felt like it was on fire. I felt my soul return to my body, I felt warmth, I felt life. My vision cleared. Yet I remained weak.
" Mother... I have to use the bathroom."
" Martha!" My mother called.
* * *
I sat at an oak table. A plate of baccon, eggs, and sasgae sat infront of me along with a glass of milk. My father sat at the head of the table. My mother, across from him. My brother across from me.
" It happened again." My mother blurted out.
Damn her!
" Its happening more and more. Second time this month." My father responded.
" Yeah and when it kills me-" I began.
" Luna." My father barked, voice rising.
My father and I were never on speaking turms, ever sense I died... and came back to life all in all. My father never liked me. He wanted my mother to get an abortion. Ever sense he found out I was a girl.
"... You'll be happier," I snapped back. " Alot happier."
He rose.
" To your room. We need to talk." He comanded.
I took a bite of my breakafast.
" After I'm done eatting." I replied.
I took another bite. My father glared at me. I smirked, taking another bite. I loved making him miserable. Chewing my food, as slowly as I could manage, I pushed myself to rise. My legs shook underneith me. They threatened to collapse. I stumbbled to my room. My father behind me.
" Cripple." He whispered under his breath.
I frowned. I was use to remarks like that from my father. My mother and brother never said anything like that to me, or even thought it.
