Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted and in that time I’ve managed to have a ton of adventures and suffer horrible writers block. But now I’m finally over that and I’m back writing. This one is loosely based off of several prompts of mine and BeKindRewrite’s. =)
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“Don’t leave me!” She gripped the hem of his shirt desperately, blind with pain. The moderator. Pain decided everything. Whether she was awake or lost in the voids of her mind. That she couldn’t see the beach, or go to the fair with Sam.
“Never.” His soft whisper brought her back to reality. Or was this the other world? The nightmare realm? Where up wasn’t always up and color swam through the skies. Where blood flowed through the rivers and giant snakes hung in even more gigantic trees, ready to drop on anyone and devour their prey. Where nothing was certain and everything reeked of pain, retching and death. She was always trapped there, with the people all dressed as jesters. But miserable ones. Ones that even with their happy faces; were only trying to attack her and any others they spotted. Nightmares caused by the drugs. So vivid. Terrifyingly real. Never ending. Inescapable.
“Am I going to die?” It was a silly question. Of course she was going to die. After seventeen years of pain, heartache, medicine, needles, doctors, loss; all of it would be gone soon. She hoped it didn’t end here. That it was just the end of this leg of the journey, and that there was something else, far better, waiting for her.
He wrestled with her question for a while, studying her. The yellowed skin, sunken cheeks and dull lifeless eyes. Why had she forced them to take her off the meds that kept all this pain away? He knew why, of course. He’d been there at least half the nights she’ woken up thrashing, shaking in fear of whatever demon had haunted her dreams that night. She’d chosen sanity, and she paid for it with pain.
She would die. Soon. He wanted to hide that from her. Telling her it would be all right in the end was so much easier. But she couldn’t take more lies. “Yes, you are.”
A gentle nod, quiet and reassured. He hadn’t lied. They had always lied before. Always thought she couldn’t handle the truth. Didn’t they see? The lies just made her more scared of death.
Death. It had always loomed over her. A block that stopped her from all the greatest parts of life. She would never marry. Never bring a child into the world. She could never grow old with someone.
He looked up from a medical report. “Yeah sweetie?”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” He set the report down and picked her up with gentle arms, cradling her frail figure.
His arms were reassuring where his words failed. Death was coming. Faster than it did to most, but really no different, right? But the idea of being gone forever, it scared her. She didn’t want to be put in a box, to get buried. Earth covering her ugly, disease ruined face. Worms slowly eating away her coffin, and later her dead body. She pulled a face. How gross. But that was all she was destined for. A box. Covered by the earth’s crusty skin.
Claire leaned her head on her father’s chest. Her hairless head. She wore a hat of course, a knit beret her mother had made for her from soft black yarn. Along with a silver locket from her dad, it was her most treasured possession. A tiny, inaudible sigh escaped her. It was time to be a big girl. Brave and ready to face what would come.
It was tonight. The very end had finally come. Just breathing for a little longer, and she’d never have to fight again. She’d be comfortably numb.
He glanced down at her.
“I love you.”