Darkness

• Cara Tout, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2014

Darkness.

That was the first and only thing that was evident through the red haze of pain that had settled to rest upon her like an ever-thickening veil. Darkness, filled with foreboding and menace. And yet through the veils thickening folds she could see that there was peace in the darkness, in the sheer sense of nothing concealed within its sprawling depths. She could see it in her mind’s eye, which was a delicately glittering jewel compared to her real eyes – hollowed, dull, lifeless things that stared at blankly at her world.

Her world, which now consisted only of cold machinery that pumped life through her straggling blue veins to her faltering heart, of soothing words with no meaning, of a harsh reality that she had finally let sink in. Her world, which was slowly shrinking and shrivelling into a tightly curled ball of hopeless despair that was covered by raging storms of grief and sorrow that brought an air of despondent melancholy to her. Her skin, pale and thin as paper, was a map of sores and deep blue veins that ran in streaming patterns under her skin, and her lifeless black hair straggled down her back as if it, too, had given up hope of surviving.

She had been beautiful once: a laughing smile; lustrous locks of ebony that flowed down her back; eyes of rich, vibrant emerald that took into account every minute detail that could possibly be spotted; and a melodic voice that rung with joy. She’d had her youth, her intelligence, and her beauty, but now she had been reduced to nought but the dying embers of the flame she’d once been – she was now a mere shadow of her former self.

Life was ruthless, and she knew that well now. But she had no tears left to shed, no selfish thoughts left to waste, no precious time to spare. She could only gaze at those who came to her with her hollow eyes of nothing and could offer them neither comfort nor reassurance, nor could they to her. Maybe she should have seen it coming. Maybe she should have known that life could never go perfectly. Life was always going to be a mountain to climb, and no one would ever be able to finish that climb, not even when they died. And some did not even get to begin their journey.

She had mourned, in the beginning, for what she’d lost, and for what didn’t have anymore, but those days were over. And soon, all of her days were soon to be over. This thing that had settled upon her had robbed her of everything. It had hurt, in the beginning, to see her loved ones already have to grieve for her. But now…now grief just mixed with the complete and utter despair that she felt, the hopelessness, the knowledge that soon she would not have any time left.

Cancer is a terrible thing. It stole her life, as it has stolen many others.