She knows you Inside-Out
She woke up with a sudden jolt, the stomach upset as though she's got diabetes. Nowadays, she tags along any metabolism occurring inside her body, proffering it to be a disease. She springs out of her bed , delicately pulling her leg underneath her sister's feet & checks in to the next room to see if her mother is still awake. Everyone is in deep slumber. She fetches herself a glass of water, then another and then one more as if her body has been severely dehydrated and blood pressure gone too low. She then makes herself comfortable on a dine chair . The clock in the empty hallway strikes giving her the only company. It is dark, 2:50 A.M. , but the sound of the clock striking each minute doesn't matter to her. Earlier , she was very apperceptive of concatenating time, everything she did or had to to would be at the right time. Now, what is time for her? There is very less time and she couldn't count on each minute to make her live longer, or even if she reckons up the figures, what vestiges would such tiny difference make? Oh! She has been diagnosed with glioblastoma, a malignant brain tumour, which is invasive enough to affect the normal brain tissue. Its been 11.8 months when her reports came. The accumulation of fluid around the tumour is blurring her vision, causing agonizing headaches and blocking her ability to think. The more she thinks, the pain seizes & causes frequent mood swings. She is helpless. The amount she has collected from the past two years out of her job isn't enough to treat her disease. Half of it was already handed in her sister's admission and the rest is rather meagre to whip into shape the family's ends meet. She bears a facade of being fit and in a fine feather in front of her mother as though she's not suffering, but inside the pain is excruciating , leaving her, her dreams and all the smidgen memories of her life collapsed in smithereens. Doctors have stated that a person suffering from glioblastoma hardly lasts for more than 4 years. She felt all blemished, surrounded by a heavy fog that won't fade away. The people she went to begging for help and money, they acted like she's not there stamping down on her requests. Most of her colleagues look down on her as if she's been undergoing a mental illness. She feels bitter how people treat someone with a disease or a disability as some kind of an outcast. Most of them would dodge the guise of a sweet-talk poker face and shower empathy on her state but when pleaded for help, they unmask their in-humaneness and turn a deaf ear to her summons. All these make her have an aversion to the stinking demeanor of mankind. Had anybody else been in her place, she would have given her best to tackle and aid that person. But people, she resented them. Looking on the bright side, she realizes that she has got the picture of the true nature of her acquaintances. Their conduct against her illness has panned out that her rejuvenation least mattered to them and she doesn't want to continue among a hypocrisy, such serpentine. The kind where people keep maligning her for every stride she makes. It would be a desire - death out of illness than to stay stuck among such labyrinthine. She feels a cold tap on her left shoulder. Her mother whispered " Child, I have arranged money for your treatment. Come and sleep, we shall work for your recovery together ". She was awestruck. She wanted to ask how & when her mother did that but refrained from asking. All she could do was feel flattered in her head. The one who serves you her cushion of water as your first home, a mother is indeed worth the frame of being divine.