Crap.
I missed it. I missed my chance.
In my short 25 years of life, I had been shot, electrocuted, poisoned, I'd walked away from 5 car accidents, and have otherwise been damaged in so many ways that I am uncertain as to weather the pages of the Encyclopedia Britannica could accommodate the tales. Needless to say, the doctors all know me by name, now.
Alone in my dark apartment, I reflected on my latest misfortune – a deadly reaction to a combination of medicines that were Supposed to relieve my pain. If my sister hadn't dropped by that awful morning, I would have simply continued to sleep... and never woken up.
"Perhaps they were working after all." I mumbled to myself.
Don't get me wrong.
I didn't want to kill myself. Life wasn't that bad. But if the first 25 years were any indication of what was to come, I was afraid that I might have missed my only chance to die peacefully in my sleep. I was certain, in that moment, that my destiny was to live a long 125 years of life, filled with pain and suffering, the end of which would be brought about by the blazing inferno of a car accident, where I would be burned alive before rescue workers arrived.
"I'm such a drama queen..." I laughed to myself as I rolled over.
My head was still pounding at every little noise and movement. But I was alive. And despite the pain, I had decided that every morning that I wake up is a good morning.
I pushed myself up slowly, my arms aching from the needles that had been poking me the day before. As I shuffled to the bathroom, I realized how weak I was. I'd lost 15 pounds in 2 days from the war that had raged within my body. I couldn't help but think that I looked like a vampire when I saw myself in the mirror... barely a hint of color in my skin in contrast to the dark brown hair that fell almost to my waist.
I heard the front door open and a familiar voice call down the hallway.
"Grace? Are you up yet?"
There was a hint of fear in her voice... I couldn't blame her... the day before, she had come to pick me up on the way to work and found me looking like a corpse.
"In the bathroom!" I called out weakly. She wasn't able to hear me, but it didn't matter. She would eventually see the light. I wanted her to know I was alive, though, so I flushed the toilet.
When she got to the door, I was squeezing some toothpaste onto my toothbrush. I heard her gasp as she looked me over.
"You feeling any better?" she asked quietly.
I saw the concern in her eyes. I nodded slowly, took a breath, and answered, "I vant to suck your blood," in the best Dracula voice I could muster up.
I could see her nerves calm as she laughed. "I'll take that as a good sign, I suppose."
I dropped the lid to the toilet and sat down to brush my teeth.
She looked at me with an odd expression I'd never seen before, and walked over to me. As I took the toothbrush from my mouth to ask her what was up, she reached out somewhat hesitantly and touched my shoulder. Now I was the one with concern in my eyes as I looked quizzically to my sister.
I had a difficult time trying not choke or spit my mouthful of toothpaste into her hair as she sobbed and dropped to her knees to hug me tightly.
"I was so scared you were dead! You were so cold! And I couldn't tell if you were breathing, and... and-" Her words were cut off by tears.
My eyes were watering. Half because of the abundance of emotion shared between us, and half because the toothpaste was burning as it began to trickle down my throat.
I didn't want to push her away, but I had to do something before I choked. I looked around desperately. The bathtub would have to do. She jumped back when I spit.
"Oh! Oh no... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Her words trailed off into tears again.
I sat my toothbrush on the sink and pulled her close to me again. She was red with embarrassment, but I was glad to hear her laughing with me.
"It's ok, Sara. It's ok..." I realized as I held her that the experience had been far more traumatizing for her than it was for me. After all, I wasn't awake for the majority of it, and when I was awake, I certainly wasn't coherent. "Thank you." I held her for a few more minutes as we both sniffed back tears. I kissed her on the head. "Thank you for everything."
She helped brush my hair and fixed me some breakfast. As I was sipping on my mango smoothie, she was bustling about, cleaning dishes and throwing loads of laundry together.
"Don't you have to work today?"
"Are you kidding me? You'll never change will you. Steve said I could have the week if I want it."
"Sara, no.... No. Look. I'm going to be sleeping most of the day anyway. I'll be fine. You know that place will fall apart without you. You can call and check on me, if it makes you feel better. But I'll feel horrible if you keep this up!" I gave her the most determined look I could force upon her. She started to protest, but I wouldn't hear it. "You're already my hero. I love you. And I know you love me. But if you lose the Stenson account, it'll be because of me and I'll Never forgive myself."
She frowned at me for a moment, looking at me as though she thought she would never see me again... But that soon faded as she knew I would refuse to rest until she complied.
"Fine. But I'll be sending someone over to check on you for lunch."
"Sara... I'm 25... I think I can handle lunch on my own."
