Things Unsaid

Fatal Flaw

My weakness is emotion. The inability to accept things as they are. The feeling of my world crumbling all around whenever something goes wrong. I accept these flaws, but that never concludes that I like them.

The death of Ky was hard for me. What was worse was that the only family member that he had was away from the country and couldn't even be contacted. It hurt. The world stopped around me when they called his time of death. Time stood still. When I got back to the room, I explained what happened to Jake and he helped calm me a bit, but the trance I was put into through Ky's end never left me. It's as if I am meant to be eternally lost in this mindset of wonder and fear. 

Nurses got me to take medicine and get cleaned up on my own, but I refused for a week to go and eat food like normal or take my usual walk. If they wanted me to walk, I would briefly go around the hospital room a few times. They didn't allow for visitors and started blaming the meds when my mood changed, but it didn't phase me one bit. I didn't want to see anyone anyway.

It was tough. Seeing death at a young life. Spending time alone in a room that you too are pretty likely to die in. Sinking that little concept into the brain took time to really accept, and all I wanted was to mourn with myself. It wasn't fair. This isn't my life. I'm not even technically living anymore. The deep thinking went into overdrive. 

After a pit of self pity and endless slumber, I eventually started to accept what was happening. Hopefully, my change of mood was due to actual moving on, but it could have been just my way to feel better. My time was almost finished in chemo, and the fact that I had made it this far was brilliant.

I hadn't really cleaned myself in a while, and the last time I checked a mirror was several weeks ago. Going in and out of my room only took place when the doctors needed to operate on me. Like I said before, a lot of the time I slept. I slept a lot. Food was no longer even appealing, and even when I did eat, it took a lot to go down. My energy sunk to an all time new low for me. Everything collapsed, but perhaps, all in the process of getting better.

Suddenly, breaking my train of thought, there was a knock on the door.

"Miss? I'm here with your five o'clocks."

Great. More meds. I groggily opened the door just wishing there would be coffee instead of meds. There wasn't, since coffee isn't allowed now anyway, but a girl can dream, can't she?

"Thanks." I mumbled, taking the pills and small cup of water.

She stared me down, making sure I took it all. I did. "Angie. I understand that you have had a tough time over the past few weeks, but the doctor thinks it's best if you go home tomorrow. It's in your best interests."

"Am I okay?" I asked, only partially wanting the answer.

"We don't know for sure yet, but there isn't much left to do with the chemotherapy. Home therapy helps in some instances, and it may even help your case."

A smile for the first time in weeks crept onto my face. Home. That's exactly where I want to go. 

The nurse left after tucking me in for the night. I slept the most soundly in forever that night as I dreamed of getting my life back. Going to school, getting into college, being with my family and friends. Maybe I could have a life. Maybe my fatal flaws were'nt so fatal after all.