White Box [under major construction]

Chapter Nineteen

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Chapter Nineteen

Lately, I’ve been feeling extremely worm down, I hardly have enough energy to even blink. Everything just seemed liked too much effort. I’m worried that my arms and legs are getting thinner and thinner.

I remember when I was once able to ride my bicycle to school, even though it was three miles away. It had seemed so easy. The wind blowing in my hair, against my uniform… The warm sunlight shinning down on me… The chirping of birds mixed with the sound of my bike crossing over rocks and soil. It was all so relaxing, and easy. I could do it without any problems. But now, I can’t even stand on my own two feet without somebody practically carrying me.

Sometimes, the nurse would walk me around my room. But it was hardly walking as I was leaning on to her and she was left with the responsibility to carry half my body weight. After one circuit of the room, I’m left out of breath, sweat coating my forehead, desperate for the pressure to leave my legs.

The nurse would always say ‘good job’ or ‘well done’ after the exercise, but it all feels so hollow. I wanted to tell them that I used to be able to do so much more, that I used to be so much more. I don’t want to be praised for doing something as pitiful as walking around a room, anyone can do that! But the sad reality is, simply walking around the room is already past my limit. My physical deterioration is a true sign of how my life is slowly floating away, like the cherry blossom petals outside of my window; I’m falling, falling down and away from my source of life.

“Sweetie, are you sure you don’t want to eat anything?” It was just my mother today; I shook my head, signaling to her that I didn’t want to.

“Are you sure? You’re looking quite skinny…” I shrugged; even replying is too much work.

I know that the woman who’s currently sitting in a chair near me is my mother. I know that she’s concerned about me. I know that I should probably try to eat, just a little, so she would stop worrying. This probably isn’t as easy for her as I think it is, her daughter is on the verge of death. So I should play along, try to at least act happy. But I don’t want to.

I’m sick of pretending I’m alright, that I’m ready to accept death and is content with the life I’ve lived. I don’t want to pretend. I’m too childish for that.

“Well, if you’re sure… Maybe you’ll feel hungry later…” My mother quickly switches the topic as she sees the frown on my face. “Oh, your doctor told me that you’ve been doing crossword puzzles lately. Has he been giving them to you? Isn’t that nice!” I stayed silent.

“He really is a kind man, I’m really glad he’s looking after you. I’m sure you’re in good hands.” My mom says, trying to push a response out of me, but I remained silent. Her false cheeriness is beginning to get on my nerves. I closed my eyes, curling up in a circle.

It’s true that Dr. Anderson’s been giving me crossword puzzles, but if I barely have any strength to walk, how do I have any energy left to think?

“Ah… Are you getting tired? In that case, should I go?” My mother sounds fretful, but I didn’t respond, I just curled up tighter. At this point, she’s probably wishing that I’d just die. Then she won’t have to deal with this ungrateful daughter who doesn’t respond when spoken to and never apologizes or says ‘thank you’.

I must be the worst daughter in the world. Maybe I really am just a kid, a selfish and bratty one.

My mother closes the door behind her gently, so that it won’t wake me—even though I’m not even asleep—. I listened to the sound of her footsteps as they walked down the hospital corridor; I kept listening, bundled up under my blankets. And when I was convinced that nobody is around to hear… I started to cry. 

~*~

ugh. i got lazy yesterday. meh. idk. this chapter is like a filler chapter ._. 

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