Her name was Sandra. Or Sandie. She couldn’t quite remember now, not with the pounding pain in her head, always making its way to other parts of her body, torturing her every second of her miserable life. She was so tired. Why wasn’t medicine working? Or was it working enough just to keep her in this miserable state, not quite dead, but not alive either? She couldn’t tell. She just wanted to end this.
Her mother entered the room. Once cheerful and happy, now she was just a shadow of the past. Sorrowful eyes watched her in grief, as though she could make the pain lessen with her eyes alone.
“How are you?” her mother asked, holding back tears.
She was bad. Very bad. She wanted to end this agony, end this terrible torture that continued with every inhale she took. But here she was, in front of the person who meant the world to her, who supported and stood by her side, when the whole world was against them, who went through hell with her just to keep her breathing again and again.
And so she remembered. She remembered that her name was Sandra. She remembered how much she and her mother had overcome just to be here. She recalled the roads that led them here and never-ending obstacles that threatened to end her life. She recollected the times when she was not sure that she would make it another month, another year, and yet continued breathing. And then she made a decision to go on.
Perhaps this agony will not come to an end. Probably, it will always be like that for them. But for her mother and for the hope in her heart, she would live. Day by day, just to see the smile on her mother’s face, just to feel the the weight on her shoulders ease up.
Sandra inhaled. “I’m fine”.
Her mother’s smile was the brightest one she had ever seen in her life.