I sit up on my bed, placing my hand on the glass of my window. My heart flutters whenever I see those blue birds chirping so early in the morning. They fly so high up in the sky. Soaring, having no care of what's underneath their wings.
I find my face on the reflection. I bore my eyes into the young woman's tired and faded green ones. We stare at each other, then,
I punch her.
I launch my fists into the thin, cheap glass, over and over again until it finally breaks, leaving shards on my sheets, and blood on my hands.
Birds. I hate them. They get to be free, while I'm stuck in this hellhole. I curse.
A nurse passing by hears the sound of breaking glass, I assume, since she burst through the door immediately. I stare at her blankly. Shock and pity are written all over her face as she rushes over to push the Call Button beside me.
After doing so, she picks up the fragments, and quickly disinfects my wounds. She keeps glancing up. Though, every time I meet her gaze, she just can't seem to stand staring at me any longer. I shrug.
Sympathy. I do not need it. Will I not die if she gave me sympathy?
Several more women in white uniform come to my aide, all sending out quiet messages to each other. Their faces tell stories: Why is she doing this to herself? Poor child. Why wouldn't she... why doesn't she... why couldn't she...
I'm sick of it. Tell me, if you were in my place... Why shouldn't I? I bite back bitter tears.
My hands feel numb with pain; just the way I like it. I raise my head to look back out my broken window. I see the young woman again. Her eyes peep behind a shard. I let her see a silent tear drip behind my cheek.
Once. For only once. I ask myself, Will someone tell me, just once...
What do I live for?
YOU ARE READING
FAITH
Teen Fiction"The higher you climb, the harder you fall." Faith, the number one artist of her generation finds out that she has malignant (cancerous) brain tumor. Everything she built comes crashing down. She loses both her voice and her trust in people. Even wh...
