Despair Part 1

Why me? I wondered as I sat there feeling helpless. Sure, life had its moments before, but it wasn't something I was ready to leave behind.

"Nils. Please open the door!" My sister screamed behind the only barrier I had to contain my sanity at the moment.

I've screamed for them all to go away in my mind. To find courage to release the words off my tongue, I lacked that. My voice couldn't carry itself any further.

My heart beat a mile a minute and disoriented me. I felt air leaving the room. Are they sure I had seven days, because I felt like I was about to die at this moment?

The room felt small. My thoughts drifted to the latter, trying to make sense of my wailing disorientation. It hurt. The pain of loss and me losing everything I hoped for.

I had no future. It was over. What could I have looked forward to when I was going to die so soon? My eyes floated around. One thought that came to mind was that I had planned little for the future.

I just wanted to eat and play with my friends. That was a meaningless exercise now.

"Why me?" I cried to myself again. What had I done to deserve this? This was not what I deserved. I deserved a happy life.

Isn't there anything I could have done? There had to be, right? I groaned and rolled over in blinding agony. This could not have been real.

There is no way this was real. Who in the world woke up with different eye and hair color? Was I some mystical creature? I was having a nightmare. It had to be that. That was the only logical explanation. Maybe if I slept, it would go away. But I couldn't have caught my breath long enough to close my eyes.

A lot of time passed with my eyes peering deadly into open space, wondering if I was going mad. The banging on the door had already stopped.

I could not have deciphered how long it was, what day it was, everything just seemed to be in limbo. Then I heard my sister knocking at the door again. "Nils, Grandma came by to see you."

What? She rarely travelled this way since she's gotten older. Still, I could not have left my bed to face her right now. Not after what she just told me with such detachment, as though it was something casual. As if my life was dismissible, forgettable, unimportant. No, I couldn't have borne that.

"Nils dear, I've read about this before. I know what's happening and I think you'd be interested in what I have to show you." Her frail voice said.

Answers? I pulled myself unenthusiastically out of bed and dragged myself to the door. I felt like lifting my hand to turn the knob was like slapping a dead cow over my shoulders. I opened the door and stepped aside, making my way back to my bed.

Grandma was wheeled into my room by my sister. The chair was rickety old one, the wooden wheels were uneven. It rocked side to side in its advance into the room. The clunk of its weight made me pulled back my lower jaw in cringe.

"How are you feeling?" My sister asked. Her eyes were red. The lids weathered and heavy from a pain once gone. It looked like she was trying to fight back the pain she felt.

Right, I was not the only one hurting. Selfish of me to forget I was not the only one in this disaster of the situation. I shrugged. Even that movement felt like too much work for me.

She nodded, as if agreeing with something she said to herself in her head. "That's okay. There must be a way to reverse this, right Grandma? Is that what's in your book?"

"Not exactly," she replied, then turned her dark eyes on me. "Nils, this diary has been passed down through generations, it's been in the family for centuries. It is the diary of one of my ancestors who experienced something similar. I know this is difficult, dear, but maybe this can help to give you some answers."

All of this information was confusing for me. Overwhelmed, I was not sure how to take it all in. So, her answer to the question about reversing this was 'Not exactly'?

What had that even meant? Was there a way to reverse this or not? Am I still going to die in seven days or not? I gestured at her and asked, "How was this going to help me?"

Grandma regarded me. She held her head down and nodded. "Let's give him some time," she whispered to my sister.

Grandma placed the diary on the table next to my bed.

My sister hesitantly agreed and wheeled grandma through the door. I stared at them, leaving without as much as a goodbye.

It seemed I was really a discarded piece of lamb. It burned in the back of my mind as I shifted on my feet. I scurried to the door to close it soon after.

With my back against the door, I stared at the book. "What's the point of reading it if I was going to die, anyway?" The days were going to pass soon, anyway. There's no point doing anything, but just waiting it out until the end arrived.

My mind raced with too many thoughts, too many questions. I heard my heart beat. It felt like it was going to bust through my mouth, shattering anything that held it confined.

Everything floated in front of me as my eyes blurred. The pain in the side of my head caused me to clatter my teeth in response. Moving toward my bed felt more like a collapse forward that a walk. I needed something else to focus on. So, for that reason, I nervously picked up the book.