Dinner Part 2

Then as though a light bulb just went on in her head or a chime rang in her mind, she spun around, "Actually let me also cut a bunch of limes for you too, you're going to be needing a lot of those."

She reached for the large bowl of limes, freshly picked, and started cutting a bunch of them in half. Quickly, she finished cutting them and moved her attention to the meat.

She moved swiftly, cutting the meat and cleaning it out with skill. Her hands were washed in red and dark brown splashes of liquid that drained off into drops on the wooden counter.

Blood, I have only seen it a few times. Usually when I or someone gets a cut so, I saw it in small amounts. I never saw this much before.

Mentally, I was screaming, but Annie showed no reaction at all. It had not fazed her. She showed strength I was lacking. I exhaled and stood my ground, trying to humble myself and make sure I was here for this.

"Ew, what's that?" I asked as she removed some stringy looking things and some lumpy bloody things from the meat.

"It's guts," she said. Annie grabbed two handfuls and moved it toward my face in a playfully sinister jest. I nuzzled her hands. She laughed. "This is normal sweetie pie. You just never get to see it."

I pretended to be on the verge of vomiting. She grinned some more. My heart was full with her laugh. I was enjoying this, spending time with her, having fun.

As swiftly as she moved, sending more meat my way, I struggled to keep up with the washing of the meat and she was patient with me.

But as time passed, with her already done cutting up the meat, waiting on me to wash the meat while we all starved, she decided to take over from me to wash up all the meat she cut and cleaned.

Then it was time to cook it. She and I both carried some wood inside to start the fire and roast the meat.

The aroma filled our stomachs and I don't know about Annie, but my stomach was like, 'So, what's taking so long? Is it coming now? Now? Now? Now?'

I had to internally tell my stomach to shut up.

Joel came back and stared at our lateness. Annie apologized and was very sweet about it. I was waiting for the burst of anger, instead all we got was a dead glare and a dismissive shrug as he left to go to sleep.

That was surprising, but I was starting to realize. I had not really tried too hard to analyze his behavior until I was about to die.

Actually, this was the first time I observed my life and the people in it. All that time I was spent having fun and playing games seemed to be like a fading dream right now.

I barely remembered any of it other than a few choice events that were a bit more significant than the latter.

My eyes scrutinized each piece of meat that was cooking. It was a sight to see the fluid bubble up around it, burning it to a crisp. That golden brown color gathered all around the inner strands of meat.

Each piece, when finished, placed to cool. I waited till Annie's back turned to sneak a piece of meat away, feeling like I won a medal each time. She caught me though "Hey!" She said, then nodded as if saying, "Ay, what the heck, why not?"

She gave me a chunk of cooked meat to pick at and she took a chunk herself, nibbling as we waited for the entire bear to finish cooking.

I found myself itching to write. These experiences were valuable, and I remembered my memory was never really that good.

I mean, most of the work was done. Annie wouldn't mind if I slipped away for a bit, did she? I hoped not. Stretching and yawning, I got up.

"You, okay?" she asked. Her eyes were so direct that they seemed to discern me down to the core of my heart.

I shrugged and said, "Me? Yup. Mm hm."

She looked at me with narrowed eyes. "What's up?"

"Just a bit tired. You don't mind if I go to my room now, do you?" I asked.

She leaned back, and a smile came up as she shifted her head to stoke the fire. "Not at all, snowman. Thanks for your help." She ruffled my hair and off I went.

Passing a still sleeping, loudly snoring Joel, I got my journal and went up to my room. I sat on the bed and felt all the aches in my body pick at me while they simultaneously came alive. Was this what hard work felt like? I had not known how it could have been both relieving and agonizing at the same time. The tension in my shoulders, I was now aware of it in my effort to rest.

Yet in the silence and stillness of my room, I felt all my emotions flooding through me as well. I had to write. I picked up my pen and started.

Day 2.

Dear Journal,

I am Nils Stylus and yesterday I found out I had seven days left to live. Let me catch you up to speed and give you an idea what day one was like.

I woke up with really cool hair and eyes. You should see me, I'm like, magical. My hair is white and my eyes are purple. But obviously everyone scared when they saw me. Sure, I looked cool and all, but it was weird. What happened to me? So, we looked for answers. That's when I went to Grandma's house and we found out. That I'm cursed and I only have seven days to live.

Apparently, roots will start to grow in my body. I don't know why. What am I? A tree?

I leaned up and tapped my chin in thought. That roots thing. I looked down at my arms. No roots were visible, or were they just too small to see?

I groaned and though that doesn't make sense, right? Purple eyes, white hair and roots. Someone needed to help me put the puzzle pieces together on those aspects of this curse.

For now, I kept writing.

When I just found out, I scared. I'm still scared, actually. I locked myself in my room, but then Grandma gave me a diary and I read it. It was a man named Nial's journal; he told his story, and it was magical, but he didn't tell me how it ended so I don't know if there's a cure or not.

And as much as I've been hoping for the cure, I'm really frustrated that this has to happen to me. I'm angry that I'm hoping to live with no actual proof that I have any chance. I feel like a fool that's just going to die anyway, but I'd rather delude myself with hope because it's too scary.

I don't want to think about it. How would you feel if you found out you only have seven days to live? I guess if you have been given my journal, you would have found out.

Anyway, that's why I'm writing this journal, for people like you and my sister.

We hung out today, well mostly she went with me on the different stops I had to make. She's terrified, but she's trying to be strong. I can see it. And I wish I could take her pain away, but I feel like if I try to focus on that anymore, I'm just going to drive myself crazy. How can I take her pain away when my heart feels like someone put a building on it and at any moment now it could just cut off my oxygen? So, a part of me feels guilty for not knowing what to say or how to comfort her, but at least she has Joel.

That's another thing. I'm planning to go to the Purple Mountain in a few days and Joel thinks he's going with me, but Grandma said people lose their lives going to that mountain. So, I don't know if I want him to come yet. I don't know if I can do it on my own, but I rather take that risk. I am going to die, anyway. Might as well be me alone, taking the challenge of going up the mountain. He can't come. He has to stay here to protect my sister. My sister is going to need someone if I pass.

Accepting that I may die