heal tom odell
Luna
This morning it felt like my body was hit by a big cargo truck. Mentally and physically.
Physically because every single muscle and bone in my body felt sore. I wish I had something to compare this pain with, but it's really the only pain I've ever felt. I'm tired, I feel nauseous and itchy and bruised. It's all around not a good feeling at all.
And mentally because, well, this just reminds me how close it's getting. That's what scares me. I have come to the realization that I have to die, and that I will die. It's inevitable. Unless, magically perhaps, they find a cure or find out it isn't terminal.
I'm highly doubting that right about now, though.
Although I have come to the realization, I haven't come to terms. I'm not okay with it yet, or if I'll ever be okay with it. It's just not fair. I understand that not everything is fair and that not everything in life will be fair but, I'm only seventeen.
Girls my age should be out having fun and going to the mall and buying makeup. I should have girlfriends to do girly stuff with. The only girly thing I do is when my nurse Sarah brings eyeshadow to put on me when I go for walks. The only thing close to having girlfriends is when I would read J-14 magazines with her.
I chuckled to myself as I sat up on my bed and hugged my knees tight.
It occurred to me that I hadn't actually looked at myself in the mirror for a long time. Not since the road trip. I've barely been out of bed enough to.
I stood up and winced, my muscles tensing up. I hobbled to the bathroom and shut the door, turning around from the mirror and unpinning my hospital gown, stripping down into nothing.
After taking a few deep breaths, I turned around.
I just stared blankly in the mirror at the sight in front of me. In awe, in disbelief. Could this really be me? How could this have really happened to me?
My body, which was already bad as it is, was basically covered from my shoulders down to my thighs in bruises. Just big purple, black and blue bruises. Places on my skin were discoloured, I had big purple undereye bags. It was ugly.
I cried and hastily put my gown back on as I ripped my eyes away from the mirror, running to the bed in horror.
"God," I said quietly, folding my hands together and placing them at my head.
"I don't even know if you exist or if you're listening, but at this moment I don't even really care. I just want to ask you... why me? Why me of all people, just a girl, a good girl, who wants to explore the earth that you made for me? I've never done anything wrong. I've been in this hospital for all my life.
"Please God, help me. I'm in pain. I'm ugly. I'm causing others pain. This whole thing isn't fair."
I sobbed violently, letting the tears fall as I clutched my hands together so tight my knuckles turned white and my skin was burning.
"Please just, help me. If you can't take away this disease, then please just give me the strength to help me cope with it."
I sat there like that for a few moments after, and when I realized how much my hands hurt I let them go, my thumbs wiping away the tears that had fallen.
It struck me that the reason Sebastian became better was that I was being strong and I didn't even know it. He thinks I'm strong, so I have to keep it that way.
a/n: welll just like to say thanks because right now I'm sort of in disbelief. My story which I never thought would even get 5 reads is at 2.14K and it's still growing. It's not rapidly but it's growing and I'm just so grateful for every single person reading this, quiet or not.
If you are quiet, still thank you for reading, and also I don't bite. If you are one who votes and comments I wanna thank you also because you are what keep me going. I love you guys so much.