What doesn't Kill You (working title)

Chapter Three

The dinner table was full of something that smelled a little off and my parents were seated waiting for me. The television still blaring in the background, the voices of the reporters telling us horrible news never fully stopped.

"Another terrorist attack against the public leaves citizens asking 'why us?' and the Great Monarchy asking 'how can we stop it?'."

"What you need to know about what 'alternative' learning and what it is trying to do to your children's brain."

"Are your Disease symptoms getting worse? Five ways to know if your medication is properly working and if you need to up your dose."

"Five more doctors who claim to have found 'a cure' have died tragically in their own homes."

I sat down, feeling the shaking of my entire body like an internal earthquake. Mom began to dish out the food for me and I looked at it with a frown. I wasn't entirely sure what it was. I remembered my Mom's cooking to be absolutely delicious but this meal seemed mediocre at best. It was a brown slop that bubbled slightly. Mom and Dad began eating without hesitation as if it was the greatest feast they had ever seen.

"This is great dear," Dad said, that robotic tone in his voice.

"Oh thank you," Mom said, "Stephanie, why haven't you touched your food? Is something wrong?"

"No." I said as I picked up my spoon. Lifting the "food" towards my lips I had to really try to not gag. It smelled like vomit and tasted bland. "Yum." I said, though I feared my expression would show my true feelings. Mom didn't seem to notice.

"I am live from the Castle where King and Queen Guillory are deep in discussions around protection of the city. The Monarchy fears that refugees from other countries are bringing more dangerous strains of 'The Disease' into our country. More details at nine."

Knock

Knock

I jumped and dropped my spoon. Mom wiped her face with her napkin and glanced at the clock on the wall. She stood up and walked towards the door. I was sweating. I wasn't convinced that I would be able to stay calm if the Department of Disease Control came to speak with us. They claimed it was for a check-in, to make sure everyone in the house was still doing okay, but I now wondered if it was to see if everyone in the house was still taking the medication, and kill them if they weren't.

I began to re-visit my fear of death. I started to feel the weight of my existential crisis crush my body. I had to stop. This was not the time for this. I needed to eat my gross food and act like nothing had changed.

"Oh!" Mom's voice said from the hallway, "Marjan, now nice to see you. Come in."

The door opened and closed and I exhaled. Dad eyed me and I smiled at him.

"Stephanie!" Mom said as she walked back down the hall, "Marjan is here with some of the homework that you missed today."

I shoved the rest of my food in my mouth, swallowed it, fighting the urge to throw it all back up, and rushed from the table.

"Thanks Mom," I said as I passed her. "Marjan!"

Marjan was standing timidly in our entrance way. She looked sickly with stringy, long black hair and tired brown eyes. The sides of her mouth lifted slightly as I approached.

"Steph," she said, "I was worried about you! We all thought, you know because you didn't come to school, that the worst had happened. Like Timmy."

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to worry you," I said. My stomach twisted at the thought of Timmy. He and I had never been great friends, but I had seen him around the school and spoke to him on many different occasions. Timmy had died the year before from the Disease. His parents had both lost their jobs and they couldn't afford the treatment. Timmy's friends had started a fundraiser and tried to donate some of their own pills to Timmy, but it was all too little too late. A pinch of guilt hit my stomach as I thought about how devastated my friends would have been if I had died today and Marjan's worries were realized. "Come in, want to come upstairs for a bit?"