For the umpteenth time this week, she was lying on her back on the floor, staring aimlessly at the hideous ceramic ceiling tiles that had gone out of style decades ago. I ought to do something, she thought to herself, but what is there to do for a basket case like me? She heard a faint click from the other room but didn't flinch at the familiar sound.
"Hey, are you there," her flat mate called out, "I got some more stuff if you're hungry..." For the first time in minutes, she blinked, realising just how much her eyes stung and how stiff her muscles felt. It was as though her mouth was welded shut, for she couldn't find it in her to respond. Her flat mate walked in to find her in her usual Tuesday night position, though this time he decided he wouldn't, no he couldn't leave her lying there alone. After several moments of silence, he grew antsy and tried to get his best friend to talk again. "...You know, if there's anything you need..." Somewhere deep within her, she mustered the strength to turn her head and nod weakly. "Okay. Well, good talk, I guess. I'll be in the room over one. Don't stay up too late, you have another doctors appointment tomorrow morning. Goodnight." He slowly got up and retreated back to his bedroom adjacent to her own. She heard the screen come alive, and saw flashes of light in the hallway every once in awhile.
Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander, losing herself in the vast reaches of her subconscious. Why, was all she could think of. Why? Why do I have to die? I don't think I want to die quite yet, but maybe I do... I don't know. The shapes in the room around her became phantasmagoric and whimsical, nothing remaining cohesive or anywhere close to correct. I...I need to sleep...that would help...Dr. Im said so... Stumbling and rolling over many times, she eventually was able to shakily stand and hobble to her twin bed. As she took off her clothes, her mind began to wander again, thinking many morose thoughts. What if I never share a bed with someone? What if these are my last few nights... and who knew being terminally ill made you so inquisitive...
Her shirt fell to the floor, along with her loose pants. Next came her special padded bra, which was made especially for her comfort, and then her navy blue panties she almost considered lucky. She looked up at the mirror across the room and saw a 5' 9", 23 year old woman with short, partially shaved hair and a abnormally pale complexion-that of a person who has suffered more than their share. Her gaze fell slowly to the rest of her figure. Her wasn't excessively overweight, but she wasn't as anorexic as her flat mate believed her to be. The curves on her body were the type some men would find sexy- her breasts forming perfectly round mounds that rose out of her chest, complete with now erect nipples, hips and an arse to match. Gently circling her forefinger around her nipples, she tried to decide what she was going to do to try and quell the nightmares. Eventually she settled on a site she used to visit back when she didn't have to worry about her illness.
