Darkness
This is a shorter story between a brother and sister, both over eighteen. Read my note at the end to find out how personal and autobiographical this story it for me.
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Darkness
Today is a day of darkness. It washed over and through me as I lay in a fetal position in my bed. The covers pulled up, the blind down, in total darkness on what is outside a beautiful sunny day.
For me, it is not beautiful. For me it is nothing. I cannot think, cannot read, cannot hope. I can only live it out in nothingness until the fog lifts one more time, so I can etch out a semblance of my former life.
Hours pass. Only my nose pokes out so I can breathe the stale air of my bedroom. Feted air, that is worse because this twenty-year-old male has given up on cleaning his room. Besides he keeps the bedroom door shut so as to reduce the sounds of normal living his family make. He needs to allow them to live in the light.
Sometime, as day moved toward night, a slim body slipped into the room. The lips of my sister kissed my forehead.
"Not a good day," she states the obvious.
I groan. This is the time I look forward to most. When my sister, two years my younger, comes to show she cares. I know she cares deeply. But she can do little.
"I'm a nine," I whisper.
I rank my days out of ten. Ten being the worst. I joke that if I'm a ten call an ambulance. Today is a nine and a half. I dare not proclaim it a ten as it could get worse.
"I wish I could do something to help you."
She knows she can't do much when I'm a nine.
"You being here is enough."
She has not done this before, but I hear her slip off her shoes and she crawls under the covers to cuddle me from behind. It is a gesture I appreciate more than words can tell. I feel her clothed body spoon me. Her hands wrap around me and she holds her slightly cold hands to my chest.
In my state, I realise my chest is naked. It takes more to realise my body is naked. I am not wearing boxers. But I have no energy to protest. Besides my brain gets its first good feeling of the day.
My sister snuggles with me and I fall into sleep. She does too, but not before she buries her head in my hair and quietly weeps for me.
When I wake I am hard. It's morning wood, but it is not morning. It is, need a piss wood, but it is not that. It is, my sister holding my nakedness to herself, even though she has kept her hands away from my groin. I am not sure she even knows I have no boxers on. I slip away from her body and out of the bed. My Boxers are on the floor. I slip into them, then reach for my sunglasses on the nightstand.
In the dark hallway, I shuffle my way to the toilet. I wait for my boner it subside a bit, so I can let down. The toilet windowsill is my friend that props up my body. It is now night outside. My night and the word night come together as I piss away the horrid day.
Finished, I move to the kitchen.
"Oh you are up, not good today pet."
Everyone states the bleeding obvious. It had been seven long months, so my bad has become my family's normal.
"Dinner is nearly ready, do you want to eat with us."
"I will try."
"Have you seen your sister?"
"I'll get her," I say. I don't want them to find her asleep in my bed, even though it is innocent.
I shuffle back to my room and put on the bedside lamp. My sister is still asleep. I return the kiss to her forehead. I have not forgotten that kindness.
"Dinner is ready Fi, thank you for the cuddle, but you need to get up."
I find my soft dressing gown that is my comfort blanket in my illness. Except I'm not sure that it is an illness, more a condition, a syndrome.
My sister rolled out of bed and snuggled into me.
"What are you now?"
"I think I'm a seven. The sleep did me good, but I think your love is what made the difference. Thank you."
"I would sleep with you all day if I knew it would make you better."
I put on a cap to keep out the overhead lights. I tried not to think about what my sister just said.
Not every day is a nine. They come in cycles. Normally a few bad days in ten, but never good days, I have not had a one or two in months. I can do things when I get to five.
Brain fog is my constant companion. I have been here before. This is my third bout of Long Covid. When it goes the world becomes clear again. Even at a two the fog is still there. But it is such a companion I didn't realise its presence until it lifted totally for the first time. I had five months of normal after that. Not that I had anything to do. I had to pass up my University course. Long COVID had stolen two and a half years from me.
The meal time is subdued as my family knows I can't bear loud noises or constant chatter. But they accommodate me.
Dad, whose name is Frank, sits at the head and tells of his week. He earns the money that allows me to not need to work. He is a good family man. He loves us equally and does his best.
"The footy is on tonight. I take it you can't join us, Russ."
Oh, that is me, I have a name. Some days I think I'm just a nothing. A phantom soul nearly existing. I shake my head. I found out that tracking the football with my eyes does my head in. I can manage it if I'm a four but not a seven. Then I might only last a quarter.
"Do you think we can win Dad?" My younger Brother Andy is a big Carlton fan. But so are we all.
"Not sure, we are up against Richmond, they are playing well this year."
Andy is a good player himself, it is Australian Rules. He has speed around the pack. As a small, he picks the crumbs up in his fingers like the ball is glue. If around goals he can snap a fluky one. I love him and miss playing kick-to-kick with him.
My Sister sees my disappointment.
"Do you want to play cards with me, Russ? Maybe in my room, your room stinks a bit."
"Yes please, that will be great."
Mum kissed us goodbye as she had a regular Friday night get-together with her sisters doing photos.
Fiona has a nice mood light she can use so my eyes can cope. We sit cross-legged on her bed and start to play Uno. Well, I prop myself up on her pillows, because otherwise I would become exhausted.
We play quietly. She knows not to shout with glee when she puts down a pickup four. She just gets a cheeky grin and whispers Uno. She wins that game.
"I have an idea, Fi suggests, "the next person who wins gets to ask the other person a question, any question."
"Is this truth or dare?" I ask.
"No, ... she stops to think... no no way. You don't have to answer. Just some fun to make winning more interesting."
"I can live with that, but remember my brain fog will mean I probably won't get to ask you anything."
She just grins wickedly.
I lose the next round.
"I'm going to start with a big question first. Get it out of the way."
I wait as she gains courage.
"Are you a virgin?"
I almost choked on my water.
"That is a hard question for me, as I planned to lose my virginity at university. But that got stuffed up. Have you seen me have the chance since? Not even a casual hook-up. Not that I'd give myself to a cheap slapper."
"Thanks for being honest Russ, I'm sorry I didn't think such a question would actually be painful."
"I guess I have to wait. I think you need to deal."
I noticed Fiona was distracted this round. She wasn't trying to lose but I think my answer threw her. I won.
Now I had to pull a decent question out of my foggy head. I guessed she was still a virgin, so I wasn't wasting that one.
"Okay, Did you or your group of school friends ever think I was hot?"
