On that day, exactly one month after my 14th birthday, I had realized how sick I actually was.
When I first heard Dr. Kelley, my pediatrician, tell me I was sick, I had thought nothing of it. Sure I had a mild headache and a runny nose. I just thought I had the flu. No big deal, right? Wrong.
He let me go after the appointment, since we all thought it was the flu and I could just take Motrin for it.
So I watched the flowers bloom and the grass grow from inside the house, with my condition gradually getting worse. I was huddled in the corner of the living room everyday, my Mickey Mouse blanket wrapped around me. I had no one to keep me company. My dad spent hour after hour at work, all day, everyday. My parents are divorced, and my mother took custody of my brother, Julian, while my dad took me. I haven't seen Mom or Julian since.
Dad started to notice too that I wasn't getting any better. He promised to take me back to the pediatrician if I was too sick. But I had always refused, telling him that I would get better soon. I guess I was a good liar, since he believed me. I didn't want to go to the doctors' office because I didn't want them to know that I was weak. I didn't want them to see me as the unhealthy teen that I am, which was stupid since they see that all the time. I can't say that I was smart at the time...
I decided, after a month in that one room, that I should keep moving and try to live a normal teenage life. Only without the drinking and parties that all of my other classmates attended.
So I went back to school and continued track and swimming. I faked a smile everyday, told all my friends I was completely fine, and that I was just a little sick still. Things weren't perfect, but it was good enough.
Time seemed to pass so quickly after I returned to school. Sooner than I expected, June 16 came- my graduation day. As soon as I woke up, I had realized something was wrong. My eyes were bloodshot, my skin was a ghostly pale tinted with yellow, heavy dark circles under my eyes.
I had attempted to call my dad over, which was pointless. I had slowly been losing my voice, and using most of my strength to talk was not beneficial. Plus, Dad is a heavy sleeper. I could have been yelling in his ear and he still wouldn't have heard me.
I tripped over my own two feet and fell flat on the ground. I slowly crawled with all my strength to Dad's bedroom door.
"Dad, dad..." I whispered, barely audible. My eyelids slowly drooped, lower and lower with every move I made.
"Dad..." The last thing I heard was the door creak open before I fell into a dark sleep.
---
That was a year ago. I'm 15 now, and a freshman in high school. I wish I could say that my life was a fairy tale now, I met my Prince Charming and became a beautiful princess and lived happily ever after. But that's not true.
I promised Dr. Kelley that I wouldn't lie anymore.
So yeah. My life sucks. I have one friend now, everyone in my school is scared to talk to me because I'm "different." It's so annoying! I just want to d-
_____________________________
I crumpled up my letter and threw it in the recycling bin (Okay, I admit it, I'm one of those nature-freaks. But I don't want nature to die. If you knew what dying was like, you'd understand.)
Why did Mrs. Phillips always give us these pen pal assignments with people we don't even know? They could be freakin' child abductors for all we know. I mean, isn't it putting our lives at risk, sending every aspect of our personal lives to these "freshman kids" from who knows where?
I adjusted the tubes in my nose and moved from the office chair back to my wheelchair. Even that slight movement filled my body with intense pain and fatigue.
I wheeled over to my room and picked up my phone. No messages. What's new? My 'best friend' barely even talks to me. Nobody does. I'm the freak. I'm like the one toy in the factory that doesn't work. I'm the crushed, empty Coke bottle on the ground that nobody wants to pick up. I'm the end piece of bread with all the crust on it. But worst of all, I'm the rejected, nerdy girl in this messed up society.
"Claudia?" My dad yelled. "Are you okay in there?" I ignored him and checked my Instagram. I saw a picture of me when I was in the hospital, posted by my dad.(And yes, i do actually follow some of my family members on Instagram)
I looked lifeless just laying there, an abnormal shade of yellow. An IV stuck out of my arm, and I was hooked up to a ventilator. A team of doctors surrounded me, trying so hard to keep me alive. I sighed. Sometimes I really just wish that when my heart had stopped for the third time, that it would've been the last.
Look at me now, though. I'm sort of alive, if you consider not being able to walk, not being able to breathe for yourself, and the dependency of pills a life. I was strong enough to survive at least.
Dad came running into my bedroom at full speed. "Claudia?" I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. He's been more cautious around me this year, making sure that I was still okay 24/7, always checking on me.... and I hate it. I just want to live a normal teenage life without parental supervision.
I'm not talking about doing drugs, I already have enough pills my doctor is forcing me to take. I just want to go out and have friends.
"I'm fine, Dad," I lied, disobeying Dr. Kelley's request. I felt like this heavy weight just fell in my chest, and for once it didn't hurt me physically. Tears formed in my eyes, but he didn't notice.
"Okay, sweetie. I love you." I stared at the ground as awkward silence filled the air. My dad and I weren't the kind of close in a good way anymore. Yeah, he used to work a lot, but we always used to have a great time together. Now we're the kind of close where he needs to stay with me or I'll die. Maybe death is a little overboard, but it's pretty close to that.
"Hey," he said. "It'll be okay eventually." I nodded, pretending to believe him.
'Paradise City,' Dad's ringtone, blasted from the kitchen.
"I should probably answer that," he said, walking away. I shrugged and unlocked my phone, then started playing Piano Tiles
"...Really? That's amazing news! Claudia and I will be there first thing tomorrow!" I heard his footsteps coming closer to my room.
"Clau? Dr. Kelley called. They think they have the cure to your disease."
YOU ARE READING
The Reject
Ficção CientíficaClaudia Edger would like to say that she's the average teenage girl, who attends parties and is addicted to social media. But there's one problem. She's not. Claudia has an unknown disease which causes her to not be able to do certain things on her...