Welcome to Gaia! ::

Day One

It’s too white, I thought while leaning back in the chair. Is this my punishment for being sick, having to live in this colorless world for six hours. To tell the truth, I probably couldn’t have told you what I did to deserve this. Hell, I couldn’t tell you what I was doing before I got to the blank room. The white coats came in to draw blood like a vampire from just below my left elbow & the pain from the stick caused the tears to pool behind my eyelids. I blinked them back; I couldn’t quit now that I just begun. I focused my sight on the window that let some view to the outside world in while the coats poked me with more needles (that time a couple inches above my wrist). After minutes of careful supervision, they left me hooked up to a bag full of electrolytes (I believe that’s what they informed me of the contents in bag numero uno) & the fight began.
Sleep. Stare. Dream. My mind drifted like a piece of wood lost in the giant sea of thoughts. How long do I have left? Is this really necessary? What part of my life am I missing right now? Am I going to make it through this? I refused to think the last, painful thought; I was going to survive. Why wouldn’t I? Despite my obvious emotional sensitivity, I was always a fighter (though not physically, but mentally). I didn’t like the possibility of losing; it just made me an easier target for rude comments & the occasional snicker.
The time trickled by with exaggerated slowness, & I couldn’t help but notice when the white coats came to switch the first bag for a second, smaller bag. It couldn’t have been that much larger than my small fist, but it was the stuff that’d help cure me. I shuddered as the liquid dripped down the tube & into my arm. I didn’t want to think about what the stuff would do to me in order to cure me. Thanking my mother silently, I picked up my brand new sketchbook & started doodling absent-mindedly. I had no clue how much time had past, but my doodle gradually transformed into the face of my crush & it brought another wave of despair which hit harder than I’d expected. He didn’t know that I had this today, though he’s one of my best friends (I just couldn’t bring myself to tell). The whole process was such a terrifying surprise to me, just like the day I woke up to find the world on my shoulders, threatening to crush me under its weight. Even though I knew it could be a possibility, I never thought it could ever happen to me. It would have killed me to see his face masked in concern (even if it was towards me).
Nausea hit as the seconded bag emitted its last drop & another white coat replaced it with the final bag (some kind of anti-nausea medicine, I believe). I could feel my heart pick up speed in anticipation of the end. Closing my eyes, I prayed that the last few months have been a horrible dream & I’d wake up in my own room on the first day of school. Time worked its magic & I was out of the colorless room in what seemed like a couple of minutes. Sighing, I met my parents in the parking lot & the sun blinded me. Then everything was lost in the bright light…
“Sweetie, wake up,” my mom nudged my shoulder, “It’s time to pick up Dad, and I’d think he’d want to see you awake.” Stretching my muscles, I exited our car and greeted my dad as he walked out of the oncology ward. It was a dream, I reminded myself. Except, there was some truth behind the nightmare. I was going through the treatment as well; we all were. Like the sun behind the clouds on the winter day, it affected all of us, directly or other wise. It hit close to home, & I was dragged along for the seven week long ride. Smiling I hugged my father & returned to the car where we drove home after a lengthy day. We’d survive. Like I said in my dream, we were fighters, & this was just day one.