I Couldn’t Leave

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There was one day when I couldn't get up. My back ached an unignorable pain, and it felt like a thunderstorm was thrashing about in the dome of my head.

Everyone knew I had caught the virus going around in my family and there was nothing I could do about it. Nearly the whole family had it when I showed symptoms. I had lasted a good while, but the exposure to the virus had gone far too long and finally my immune system couldn’t evade it anymore.

I couldn’t leave my bed. I had zero energy. Every time I got up I wanted to collapse where I stood.

I slept to escape the pain of my spine and head, but I had never been able to take naps on demand. I spent that whole day lapsing in and out of consciousness in thirty-minute intervals. At one point my brother came in and gave me a sports drink, and I was very grateful.

I stared at the nightstand across from my bed. I felt so lonely. I was a plant, stuck in place, vulnerable to the painful bad weather that consumed my insides. I could hear conversations downstairs. The hiss of a searing pan of a meal I could never hope to keep in my stomach. My apatite was non-existent; my stomach felt dense and stone-like, not made for food anymore.

The next few days I felt decent enough to leave my room, but the pain was still unbearable and my apatite was dormant. By now everyone in the house was sick, with no signs of getting better. If I looked left or right, my eyes would break into a stabbing pain. Mucus leaked from my nose constantly. Everyone was prone to coughing fits.

Then one night, as I slipped on my pajamas and headed to my bed, I began coughing. I would cough a whole sentence worth, then catch my breath and cough again. The wheezing was so bad I rushed to my parents’ room, my voice sandwiched between bouts of coughing.

Dad said that he experienced this too and the only thing I could do was take some medicine to calm the symptoms. He took out the medicine bag and fished out any medicine that looked like it could be for coughing.

As I watched on, my wheezing was getting worse and my lower abdomen was starting to hurt.

The only thing keeping me calm was the fact that my parents didn't look concerned.

I was losing hope. No pills or packets were said to cure the symptoms I had, and there were only a couple unchecked medicines left.

“Aha! I didn't even know we had this!” Dad pulled out a dry tea powder packet. He said it would cure a cough. He had been looking for that packet for days. He also managed to find some pills that should help with the symptoms.

We went downstairs, and Dad brewed some hot water and we both waited for it to get hot enough for tea.

I stared at my father. There were things I wanted to say, but I didn't want to alarm him with my intense feelings of dread. In the end, I decided to tell him.

“Dad, I've been feeling so awful. My thoughts have been so negative. I keep thinking of terrible situations and we're all sick! …What if we get worse instead of better?”

He coughed. “When you are this sick and you haven't been outside in days, you can start to feel miserable. And you're not the only one who worries.” He told me I'd have to work on changing my mindset from negative to positive.

I smiled. Good old Dad.

That tea tasted sugary sweet and made me feel better. I'm grateful because even though my Dad wanted that tea, he let me have it.

Now I'm over that sickness, and my mind is at peace again. I'm so thankful that even though my family was sick we still helped and supported each other as if nothing changed. They carved the tunnel for me to see light at the end of it.

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My latest novel, Shook, is being published to Hive in parts! See all released chapters in this post.

Hey there! I’m Shila! I’ve loved books since I could read, and decided I would write books I wanted to see written for others! Check my children’s book Imagination on Amazon!

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