Realism Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Another Morning ❯ One-Shot

Sitting at my window facing the beach, I watched some kids building a sand castle. They had found a big seashell to top one of the towers, but that was the only structure that seemed to want to stay up. Every time they tried to build something on top of the short wall, it collapsed. I envied their abilities to simply start over again, their perseverance to complete something that kept eluding them. They would succeed eventually, even if not that day.

 

My legs suddenly stiffened and couldn't hold me up anymore. I fell to the ground and clutched my stomach as it was ripped apart. My chest tightened and was engulfed in flames and I couldn't breathe. I tried to move my legs but they refused to listen. Gasping out a short scream, I dug my nails into my sides; I was being stabbed and the knives were twisted inside of me. Just when my chest felt ready to cave in, it stopped. I lay sprawled on the floor, incapable of getting up.

 

My daughter Cally rushed into the room and took my hand. “It's okay, it's over now,” she said.

 

But it wasn't okay. I knew it wasn't. She was lying to herself if she thought it was over. The moment of relief did little to erase every memory of those short attacks of agony that struck me. She put my arm around her shoulders and heaved me up off the ground; her time spent with me had certainly made her stronger. Or maybe it was that I had lost weight because I couldn't keep down anything solid.

 

“Here, let's get you into your chair. We can go for a walk outside once you take your medication.”

 

She sat me down in the wheelchair and handed me my pill bottle and went to the kitchen to get a cup of water. I strained my wrist trying to open the container, but the cap wouldn't budge. It was a special, non-childproof bottle due to my condition, but I still could not open it.

 

“Damn it,” I groaned, gritting my teeth and trying again. It didn't move.

 

Cally came back in with the cup and handed it to me as she took the bottle. She opened it with no effort at all. I envied her, too. She was so wholly independent and I had ruined that by making her take care of me. She said it had been her choice but I still forced it simply by being alive in my state. I wished not that I could be like her, though. What I wanted was for it just to be over with. My soul knew it was time for it to be over but my body foolishly held on and I was punished for its poor choice.

 

She dropped the pills in the shallow cup and I drank the water, swallowing them. They were supposed to ensure that I had no more attacks for at least twelve hours. They were unreliable. They should have worked long enough for me to fall asleep, though; I went to bed with the sunset during this time of year, and I slept until the sunrise. If the pills stopped working when I was asleep and I had a major attack, I wouldn't wake up. That's what I had been told, at least.

 

My daughter insisted that I took them just before I went to bed, that way the chances of going in my sleep were very slim. It was fortunate that taking them just after another bout was higher on her priority list. One day, I would have an attack sometime so that the pills could wear off in the middle of the night. One day, if I was lucky.

 

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, breathing slowly.

 

“Okay, let's go for that walk, now.”

 

I smirked. They could hardly be called walks for me. I could barely risk getting up outside since my legs gave out at random. She just pushed me along the sidewalk down the edge of the beach. I nodded anyway. I had the feeling that she liked doing it far more than I did.

 

We moved out into the waning light and turned down the small sidewalk. We passed people packing up from their day in the sun, people just arriving to have a bonfire, ocean kayakers coming in from their adventures. I missed all of that. All I could do now was watch from my window, or from my chair as Cally wheeled me around. She would never tell me, but I knew I was burdening her; she didn't listen to me when I told her to go out and do something for herself. When I told her I'd be fine without her around all the time, she just shrugged it off and kept doing whatever she was doing.

 

One of the kids who had been building the sand castle jumped up and ran for one last swim in the ocean. As he tried to run over the toys of another child, he caught his foot on a truck and tripped, hitting the wet sand face first. He started crying and his mother was at his side immediately, comforting him and wiping the sand off his cheeks.

 

Shaking my head, I looked up at the sunset. There was little special about it and I looked back in front of me. Reaching back, I laid my hand on Cally's.

 

“I think I'm too tired for this, tonight.”

 

She turned around and took me back home. After wheeling me into my bedroom, she left to clean the dishes. I would be able to sleep in peace and hope my wish would be fulfilled.

 

As I closed the door, I looked at the sunset photo on my desk. It looked exactly the same as the one outside, oranges and reds, both dull, reflecting off the ocean. There was no difference; it was just the same thing every day. Maybe it was that my eyes could barely make out those colors anymore.

 

Sighing, I lit the incense candle on my end table and went to bed, wishing for it to be the last time I would have to do so. Breathing in the relaxing scent, I fell asleep thinking about relief I should be given. There shouldn't have been a morning for me.

 

The sun rose and shone through my bedroom window, and I awoke. I sat up with my shoulders down and eyes closed. Oh, well. Maybe tomorrow.