Chapter Text
You sigh, feeling your eyelashes almost stuck to your cheeks as you lay in bed. Your fuzzy head swimming as your limbs remain in collapse like a star, your hair stuck to your face and neck and making silky tendrils on your pillow.
You lay like this for a long while, drinking in the soft glow from the morning sun. You almost look like an angel, your soft breaths making your chest rise and fall, your bare thighs showing as your blankets are kicked down to your ankles. Your shirt reveals your midriff as it raises almost past your chest, and your underwear making a ring around your thighs.
You slowly open your eyes, the sting of the day leaving you just wanting to go back to sleep. You raise your arms above your head and stretch until your limbs are shaking and release, hearing various pops along your body as you still once more.
Your fuzzy vision slowly begins to come to focus, your head ripping through you with another migraine. This is how you’ve woken up for almost a year; sore, almost more tired than you were before sleeping, and so utterly heavy. You swing your legs to the side of the bed, toes not even grazing the floor yet as your small frame struggles to sit up right.
You can barely stand the pounding in your head, your body feeling like you were hit by a truck before slumber. The longer you stayed in this apartment and at that diner, it felt like the more it was killing you.
You finally will yourself off the bed, not daring to glance at the clock. You know that the sun is far too bright for you to have woken up on time. Surprisingly, your job has been understanding with your medical problems and have accommodated, even though you technically didn’t qualify for a true disability.
It also helps that your roommate recently succeeded in her job hunting, not only paying you back for all the months of rent she owed you but chipping in her half, sometimes even before you can pay yours. She still makes you both coffee in the morning, and you both have a small schedule on the fridge of chores to keep the house clean where you both wouldn’t get overwhelmed.
For the situation that you had been in before, it seemed like everything you would seek refuge in the park from was falling into place.
You flip the switch to the bathroom and stare at yourself, almost becoming unrecognizable. Your eyes are framed in dark circles and overwhelming crusts from moisture, your lips cracked and swollen, your thighs and hips pebbled in bruises.
You turn on the faucet to the shower, taking off what you had left for clothes as you continue inspecting yourself. Your nipples stung and swelled, the fabric of the t-shirt causing irritation to your darkened mounds, and anywhere between your hips and knees was stinging.
You ease into the shower, the warm and inviting water engulfing you in a gentle stream.
You went to the doctor a few months ago for all your symptoms, but became very aware of medical gaslighting. It took finding a newer graduate before they actually ran any tests. You came to find that your liver sustained a little damage and you live on a strict diet. Sometimes when the migraines are bad enough you take a special medication, but in some instances even that doesn’t work.
You’re just glad that jaundice isn’t yet a problem, but you have some other concerns, too.
Your lips, chest and genitals are always so swollen in the mornings. You were so concerned it was some type of cancer but even after physical exams, biopsies, ultrasounds, there was nothing to be found. You didn’t have a sexual partner, and you certainly would remember if anything happened to you. It was like all of the pangs of a rough night but lacking everything that made them enjoyable.
You let out a deep sigh you didn't know you were holding, really starting to wake up now.
Wrapping up the shower, you throw on an oversized, colorful plush towel. It fits like a beach towel around your short, petite body. Your small, wet feet padding back to your room leaving a small trail of footprints. You let the towel drop away from your body, continuing to dry off. You now finally have enough willpower to look up at the clock, your shoulders drooping as you do.
9:30.
You overslept far past your 7am shift, but your boss said as long as you were there before lunch rush it wasn’t a problem.
It was odd that you did manage to go to bed at a decent time, but every morning was the same; an unbearable exhaustion and sickness holding you hostage every morning, lulling your body into a slumber so deep even your alarm couldn’t penetrate through.
You ruffle through your pile of clean clothes by your bed, never really using the closet in your room anymore. Half the time you had to fight to open it and some days to no avail. You feel a small breeze as the curtains graze your arm, and you fail to even be puzzled anymore.
You always woke up to your window open, no matter how many times you’ve shut and locked it, making double, triple, even quadruple sure. You even had your roommate Lucy verify it was closed and locked one night and still woke up to it gently ajar.
You were pretty sure she was messing with you, or maybe was dropping hints that your room had a smell. She did have some obsessive-compulsive tendencies, but nobody could be perfect.
You used to have a strained relationship with your roommate Lucy, three months of not paying rent will do that, with the added insult of near nightly guests. She almost constantly had a hang-over and things were coming to a head as Mr. Williams practically almost forced you to kick her out. You sat and had a long discussion with her, and one day instead of getting the usual vitriol laced response of minding my own business, she actually began to confide in you.
All it took was a few nights of you throwing caution to the wind and hanging out with her. Sure, you didn’t like drinking too much but the weed did seem to help the weight of the world slip of your shoulders and the sickness in you to not be as bad. Sure marijuana can’t fix everything, but the properties it’s known for really does the job.
Ever since then, you couldn’t really imagine having any other roommate. Sometimes you both still had some squabbles, but you always came back together. She added a little chaos to your otherwise mundane life, even structure when it came to chores or remembering to lock up the entire apartment. You feel like you added a little grounding and responsibility to the table, as well as a safe space for venting. You now knew more about that girl, and maybe with all her secrets a psychologist would have been a better choice.
But with your wages, who could possibly afford that? You could barely keep up with your expenses, purposefully scheduling appointments to align with bonuses or tax returns. You did have some good insurance for making below the poverty line, but there were some testing you knew you needed that insurance just wouldn’t cover no matter how much your doctor insisted.
You smile at the coffee on the counter, knowing Lucy was already at work but always left you some. You prepare a mug just the way you like it and switch the coffee maker off. Grabbing your keys and making small adjustments to your uniform, you slide out the door and lock it behind you.
The walk to work isn't too bad.. on the contrary, it's actually perfect today. The sun’s warmth isn't overbearing, it's actually quite inviting. The luscious green plants growing between the sidewalk and the street bare small fruits and deep colored leaves.
You started switching up your route to work because the monotony was getting unbearably boring, but found this one to be far too beautiful in certain times of year to avoid. The city ordinance started a food program and a lot of Guerrilla gardeners around the city started planting fruit trees to help feed people.
You never had to worry about missing breakfast as you pluck a citrus fruit from one of the trees as you walk and gingerly eat it.
You finally make it to work, looking around. As usual, it's peppered with a scant crowd, some recognizable as regulars but others just strangers expecting to chow down on a dime. You make your way to the back, looking to see that T.K clocked you in some time ago, fastening your apron around you. You hear heavy steps and clanking as TK releases a few dishes into the soapy sink, the steam still rising from the fresh hot water they stewed in.
“And where have you been?” They ask through a lazy grin and half-hooded eyes. They know your situation, but still liked to give you a hard time. You figure it probably helps take the edge off you both, as the reality could be scary, especially since you had no idea what was going on.
“Lazing in bed, you’re lucky I even showed up.” You retort light-heartedly, matching their cool yet playful energy. They lean against the wall, crossing their arms over their chest. Their look falters a little and you tilt your head in response, as if asking a silent question. You two knew each other so well, you could almost speak completely in gestures.
“Are you… feeling any better?” They look down, you bite your lip, a pensive expression taking hold. TK was a worrywart and anything less than a vast improvement was lost on them as a near catastrophe.
You break the tension, finally coming to an answer.
“I’m not any worse.” You say cheerfully, trying to play it down. They look away towards the floor in the opposite direction, almost as if facing you is too painful.
“Do you know that for sure? Are they at least doing anything about it? You still look terrible.” You wave them off, knowing full well. Hearing it though did leave a little sting.
Have you gotten so sickly looking that now everyone knows you’re not ‘living your best life’? You contemplate finally learning how to apply makeup just so you can calm the people down around you.
You're tired of being treated like you were diseased. Like you could drop dead at any minute. To be perfectly honest, it scares you when they treat you like this, because then you have to come to terms with the fact that not only is something wrong, but something is seriously wrong.
“Thanks, I guess I don’t need a Halloween costume then.”
TK chuckles, giving you a cool look and a casual eye roll, “Horrifying, truly.” You let out a snicker, but all is lost as you peer out the service window and realize that it’s time to crack down and get to work.