Interlinked

Chapter 26

 

Chapter 26:

  The pitter patters of the rain against my windowsill only remind me that in a moment where I think my life is about to come to an end, I’m still alive yet tortured with pain stabbing every inch of my body.

A scream leaving my mouth that it mixes with the heavy sound of pouring rain from outside, only frighten me that if this pain stops crashing me down, I might be in a new dimension, a dimension I’m not really ready for.

  I can hear my mother’s voice, but I can’t listen, I can sense my pleads with God to ease this pain and gradually let it fade it away for I have nothing but hatred towards the current moment I’m in.

Another sharp breath and another stab in my chest while acid seem to pour endlessly on my stomach before they travel up to my head – weakening me every second, as I crouch and wrap my arms around my wobbling knees in hopes I might adapt to this strike of pain. But I can’t take this pain, not today, not now, and probably not tomorrow for having a death wish that could instantly save a soul being sucked into an endless portal.

 “Please,” I yell, as my muscles tense at the excruciating pain. “Please, please, please,” I allow a quivering tear to escape from my sore eyes.

   “Raquel, please, let me do something!” I hear mom shouting, but I shut my eyes firmly at the wave of pain dwindling me and I groan loudly, unable to stop myself from this aching moment.

 “No!” I manage to say under my breath and roll vigorously on my bed before I fall off, unable to sense the physical pain due to the flames lightening my insides alive.

  “Raquel!” Mom shouts, alarmed and I try to open my eyes as to see her blur figure taking closer steps. “Oh god,” she whispers before pulling me closer to her and pats gently on my sweaty head as the heavy sobs finally leave my lips. “You’ll be okay,” she whispers against my ear, and I swallow roughly, in hopes to swallow the pain on the way. “You’ll be okay,” she whispers again as my breathings become rapid before falling asleep.

 *

  That was my second Chemotherapy week, and thankfully, I am able to stand on my feet normally to rinse myself and feel alive after yesterday’s horrendous blizzard that took over my body.

It’s a bit odd, and a first for me, to undergo these unexplainable and tormenting waves of pain that happen the same day of the chemotherapy or a day after it, but that doesn’t make it any easier to wish for a life knowing that this pain might befriend me for a period of time I’m not aware of.

  After the shower and getting dressed before walking down stairs, I grab my phone from the charger then make my way to enter the heated living room before plopping myself on the rocking chair that’s set next to the fireplace.

“Good afternoon,” mom sends me a soft smile while holding a tray with two cups resting on top and placing it swiftly on the centered table in the room.

  “Hey,” I grin as I study the quick movements of her legs as they traipse in my direction while carrying a cup before placing it on the little table to my side. “Thank you.”

 “So, you’re better today?” She asks me, worried.

“For some odd reason, I feel so much better than yesterday.” I admit, and stretching my arms out to grab the cup of tea before placing it on my lap.

“I’m glad.” She sighs out in relief, and I do as well, looking steadily at her exhausted and fatigued face before she flashes me a smile.

 “I’m sorry about last night, I know it was a very difficult phase for you,” I whisper, a wash of guilt travels inside my body quickly before it rests in the pit of my stomach.