And i don't care that my mother is crying, on the shoulder of my father who won't even look at me. i don't care taht i am in this white room, sharing it with a thousand other patients, seperated only by a thin black curtain.
Why am i here? Because they know that i am dying. They can't put me with everyone else, becayse they are living. And they don't want to live with death. That's why we trap out loved ones in little rooms like this one, because we are afraid of loss, afraid of death. That's why my father won't look at me. He is terrified.
I feel sorry for my parents. They now have to acknowledge my mortality. No parent should have to watch their child die. And yet... They watch. Since the day i was born, my parents were always there, waiting... and helping me find the light in a dark situation.
But now, all i have is darkness. And it eats them up inside knowiong that they can't help me. Not now. Not now. I can feel my sister watching me from teh corner. Her 17 year old confidence she used to flaunt.. has left her. I can feel my father glaring at her from behind his bifocal glasses, blaming her for my state.
He doesn't understand, that it was the boy's fault, not just her's. But maybe he does understand. Yet... because the boy is dead, he can't blame him. Unfortunately, my sister still has a pulse, so all his hate and anger is vented on her.
My father floats in and out of the little room, disapearing for hours at a time. Pronanly for work. My sister also leaves every now and then, for school no doubt. Only my mother stays with me forever. Never leaving. Never. The nurses bring her cold meals on plastic trays. And if they forget, she doesn't eat. I want to smile, and tell her i'll be o.k. but today i am tired. So i will speak another day.
Tomorow is now today, my mother sits on my left side, her tears have stopped, but i know her eyes are still sad.
I can feel my sister on my right side, breathing heavily in between sobs. I can feel the light kissing my eyelids, so i know it also caresses her hair. Even with my eyes shut. I know her hair is on fire, catching the sun's rays and turning them into a masterpiece.
I can feel her tears rolling down my cheecks. Good. I'm glad she's crying, she's part of the reason i'm here. She shouldn't have let that boy sway her. Shouldn't have listened to him taunt her. But she's always been weak, one who struggles for a moment, but always gives way to the oppresser. If i could, i would punch her in the fave for letting him put me here. But i can't. So i don't.
My hair is being brushed... again. My mother is always brushing away at my hair... or reading. But she won't turn on the television, afraid it might disturb me...
I wish she would go back to work. One of the places she was happiest. SHe's the owner of a teen center downtown. She loves her job, her teens, and they love her. But she won't leave... because i'm here... My mother loves the reaction from people when she explains her occupation.
"I'd never work there, Teenagers these days are crazy."
My mother loves doings that people would never do... she's a rebel.
Right now, i can't see her. But i'm sure her hair is neat... Normally she looks strong and proud. But i know this ordeal has broken her. Watching her daughted hooked up to machines... she looks shattered. Her once confident poste is reduced to feeble nothingness. And it's my fault...
I can't sleep anymore. Even though they think i'm always sleeping. The think i can't wake up. But i am always awake. Right when i think i'm falling into the dream world, my heart races, my head aches, and i wake up with smoke and sirens ringing in my ears. i can still see his face. It's staring, always staring. With a red veil over his face... is it a veil? Or is it blood? I can't tell. I try to reach out and shake him. But i can't move.
I'm broken.
He's staring. Still staring. The sky is crying for me. Cryign and washing away his veil, so his eyes can keep on staring. Why isn't he blinking, this boy that put us here. Now he blinks, his eyes just ever so slowly, moving. He's trying to get up... But he just coughs. And a bubble of blood rises from his mouth as he tries to talk to me. I try to scream, but i'm too tired. Later i will remember, and later i will scream. I see him shiver.. i see him shudder then roll over. Then i see the gleaming from his throat. Something's stuck. Oh goddess. Help me. HELP ME. get him away... GET HIM AWAY!
Maybe it's earsiar if i just give in. If i just let the Goddess take me. Maybe my mother will go back to work, maybe she will stop crying soon. Then my father will look at my sister, and love her more than ever. Because she will be his only daughter. Then my mother won't sit here anymore, won't wish that i wasn't this way. Because i will be gone.
There's a burning in my fingers. Like hot needles sticking and prodding at them from the inside. It's getting harder to breath. The machines can pump air into my lungs, but can't make my blood accept it. I'm blacking out. I'm falling down. I'm falling up. Someone catch me...
SOMEONE CATCH ME.
Please?
please...
The End