Monday, February 26, 2007

SNUFF

Hello, My name is Kirsten K----, and I am going to die.


I think that for as long as I live, which will not be long, I would rather not hear the word inoperable again. They give you all the technical terms, show you all the scans and always remain professional, but there’s still something in their eyes…something that hits you with crushing weight; it forces the air from your lungs. That’s when you know the finality of it all.


At first, the days don’t feel the same. Everything is like a halo surrounding a dark center, bright hues at the edges. Things seem sharp and crystal, precious and yet so sad. You feel sorry for yourself, and you try to convince yourself that the time left is going to be an amazing Hollywood ending.


But reality lingers. The days still have twenty-four hours in them and each one is one step closer to the inescapable. I soon began to realize that nothing has changed. The world is still the same. The sky is still blue. The sun is still bright. My mother still annoys the hell out of me and I am living my life exactly as I always have.


That’s why I’m leaving. I have to get out of this place, wander around the open skein of the world for a little while. I probably will never see my parents again. Six weeks ago they told me I might have a couple months to live, if I was lucky. So I’m not expecting to make it back any time soon and I don’t expect to be giving any blustery good-byes. There have been more than enough tear stained cheeks and snotty noses in my life to last a lifetime. I will be slipping out the open window in my room, a short drop to the damp ground below and a quick dash into the vanishing. I will be their ghost, their little girl lost.



(go to 2nd departure)

Labels: ,

1 Comments:

Blogger Rick said...

what a vivid picture you have painted. I can't wait for the next chapter.

GO KRISTEN!

7:56 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home