Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
TAENNIE
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
08:34pm
Jennie stares at the clock, its hand strikes the minutes and seconds, predicting it.
She can't move. Her arms should stay still because of the dextrose impaled on it. Jennie licks her drying lips, her body is close to withering.
She feels useless.
"I'm sorry we just can't do anything to save her, the blockage in her heart is too much that bypassing it is no use at all." The doctor says and she can hear her mom wails.
Crying. Always crying.
It all started when Jennie was just ten, their sickness is a family heritage. Her father got it and died not long after she was born. It was stated that among her siblings, one gets the highest possibility of having the same disease.
Unfortunately, that child is Jennie. And whenever that thought stumbles on her mind. She tries to sweep it away.
Jennie tries to sweep her thoughts away by sugarcoating it.
She isn't blaming the world, she says.
It's okay, she says.
She's going to be alright, she says.
But nothing seems alright if she's trapped in this bed, doing nothing but to stare at the walls, counting sheeps, counting the days she wakes up, counting the times she can't breathe, and counting how many days she has left.
How many times did Jennie smile to show her mom that she's alright?
How many times did Jennie confront herself that she's fine? That it doesn't hurt.
How many times did Jennie wonder, what if, what if she's normal like those other teenagers out there?
Maybe she gets to learn more, with experience.
Maybe she'll have friends. Socializing with everyone.
Maybe she will be free.
Maybe.
Jennie's mom comes in to her room, the girl quickly smiles. Pretending that she didn't heard what the doctor just said.
"Eomma!" The mother can't help but to weep a little. She can't stand to see her daughter, dying in front of her eyes. What can she do anyways? Stare at her own child going pale, withering?
