The Poison In My Veins
The Poison In My Veins unbreakable stories
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Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
Hospital beds were not made to provide comfort, I first thought when I visited many months ago. (A short story on today's prompt: unbreakable and cancer patients. Again, another sad read. )

The Poison In My Veins

Hospital beds were not made to provide comfort, I first thought when I visited many months ago.

They were hard, lumpy and always creaked when you moved or rolled over to find a more comfortable position. But over the months I had become used to them. It was on one of these beds where I first heard the words.

I was a fairly healthy child growing up. I had a loving family and my best friend was the rock in my life. Very soon, I would have to grab on to her as the turbulent mess off my life unfolded around me. I was lucky to have her.

A hospital bed is where I sit now. My face is pasty, sweaty, covered in tears as I peer out through hooded eyes to see my parents. They're crying. I guess they have a reason to.

All my energy is spent trying to comfort them, give them a sign that I am OK. A wiggle of the finger, a clear blink. But I'm trapped. Held hostage in an empty shell.

I can't move. I can't breathe or eat by myself nowadays.

I didn't take note of the symptoms. My life was so busy that I couldn't be bothered to be worried. I hid weight loss through baggy clothes, breathlessness I blamed on an unhealthy diet.

My friends at school asked and asked, but I relentlessly denied. School. I won't be able to see my graduation, won't see the proud look on my parents faces as I mount the stage in my best clothes. Huh, funny. I'm dying and I'm worrying about school. Guess it's the student in me.

When people die, do they turn into angels? That's what my mom told me when grandma died. I wouldn't like to be an angel, I'd be too defiant. Don't really like following rules. Maybe that's why my body isn't healing.

I'd rather be a star when I die. I like that thought. I'm a fallen star who needs to return to her rightful place in the sky. One of many.

Cancer is such an ugly word. That's what they said I had. But I'm not just a cancer patient. I'm a star and my light is diminishing, so I can float to the sky and take my place.

Right next to Grandma. My body may be broken but my spirit isn't. I am unbreakable. These thoughts come and go as the poison runs in my veins.

Right next to Grandma. My body may be broken but my spirit isn't. I am unbreakable. These thoughts come and go as the poison runs in my veins. I take a deep breath and I close my eyes for the last time. And the star returned to the sky.

... I know a lot of people close to me who have been diagnosed with or passed away from cancer. They are all stars, bright and dazzling. They're always with us if we take a moment to look at the night sky. :)

Thanks for reading. That's Iqra... OUT.

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