Rising Dawn (Willy Wonka X OC)

Sick and Tired

     A week later and I still haven't managed to eat something. It's not as if I haven't tried, I'm not trying to starve myself, my stomach has simply rejected everything it comes in contact with. I've lost weight, my energy levels are much lower, and sleep evades me most nights. All I can think of is how wonderful the factory was and how I'll never see it or its magical inhabitants again.

     Mum's had a cold this whole week, so I had to work double time as well as work on fixing the ceiling and that hole in the roof. It's been too long. It's time I stop looking at the stars.

     The whole experience has had the exact opposite effect on Charlie though, he has blossomed with creativity. Now it seems like everyday he's coming up with new ideas for candies, and now he can request similar ones from the Oompa Loompas who take orders every night and arrive early the next morning with deliveries. The whole mood of our small house has been lifted with the constant promise of chocolate. Mum has a beautiful rosy shine on her cheeks and the grandparents sparkle with energy. I, on the other hand, have paled to an ashy grey color and my bones protrude more than they ever have before.

     Just the other day, Charlie noticed, "Dawn, your eyes..."

     I turn from my new position huddled in the drafty corner of the upstairs. "What? What is it, bud?"

     "They're...they're grey." He looks at me with concern. "They aren't green anymore, they're grey. You don't look too good, you need a doctor."

     I didn't know eyes could do that. "I'm fine, bud. A little sick is all."

     "Then why do you keep going to work? Mum was sick and she didn't work. Why are you working?" He slides close to me and wraps his arms around me.

     "Well, Mum is older than me. If she gets sick and still goes to work, it could get much worse and become a serious illness," I calmly explain.

     "So you won't get sicker?"

     I can't lie to the kid. I've had enough of lying. "Maybe. It's possible. It's likely." I shrug. "I'll live."

     "No, you won't, Dawn. Not if you keep living like this." Charlie stands up. "Don't take my big sister away from me. Please." He goes over to his bed and tucks himself in. I lie down and hug my arms to my chest, breathing deeply to clear my head. In through the nose, out through the mouth. My breath forms tendrils of water vapor in the air and I watch them rise and twist like smoke.

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     I wake up the next morning after an erratic night of sleep, barely able to breath through my nose. My head pounds with a splitting headache, and I feel nautious without even having eaten something. I guess Charlie was right, I am getting sick. I shrug it off and go downstairs quietly as everyone else is still sleeping. Mum has a stuffy nose too right now, so I rekindle the fire and boil some water for her. I cook a small breakfast of toast with cooked cabbage from last night on it and set out six plates. My worn scarf is thrown around my neck, my thin gloves are shoved onto my stiff, skeletal fingers, and I leave the house quietly.

     Ever since that night, which seems years ago though it was only nine days, I've avoided that side of town completely to keep myself from freaking out while working. I subconsciously drew a line on the map in my head of what area to stay away from, but...

     There could be some good business over that ways. I'm pretty much the only independent Jack-of-all-trades besides my mother around here, and I haven't been near there in over a week. There's bound to be something with good pay that someone needs done.