A/N: One shot, a bit of a drabble. Thirteen's point of view of when it really starts to hit her that her Huntington's disease is real and won't go away. Let me know what you think! :)
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It's happening.
That's the first thought that ran through my head when I woke up this morning. Actually, it's the first time that thought has ever run through my head. Usually I wake up with the thought of 'It's going to happen some day', as if I could put off the inevitable for just a little bit longer with my measly thoughts. But today has proven that my thoughts are useless against the fate I've been cursed with.
It was only a small tremor. A tiny shake of the fingers. It could have been accidental, if you really thought about it. It could have just been an exaggerated stretch as I was still half asleep, but no matter how hard I try to believe this, my mind refuses to allow me to be comforted. Foreman has told me that the nerve degeneration has already started, but I've somehow been stubborn enough to believe that he'd made a mistake. How could my life start to crumble to pieces around me when I've been holding it together for so long? But now I know I was only pointing fingers so I wouldn't have to face the fact that I was terrified of my future.
My face fell as I sat up in bed this morning, watching my fingers shake with their own volition as the morning sun leaked through my windows to greet me. To taunt me, is more like it. As if it were saying Today is just another day to everyone else, but how much time do you have? The fear coursed through my veins as I buried my fingers in my sheets, as if hiding the problem from view could prevent it from worsening. I couldn't bear the fact I was watching my life slip away from me by sliding through my trembling fingers. But I know that anything I do to hide it is futile. I know it can't be stopped.
The thing about Huntington's disease is that it's unpredictable. Once you test positive, you never know what kind of time you have left. You could have one year, or ten. Your fingers could start to shake, or your brain could start to degenerate. You could run a mile today, and not be able to walk tomorrow. You couldn't know how it would start. You couldn't know when it would start. All you did know is that it would never stop.