Caught Between Two Worlds
2009
Caught Between Two Worlds
July 20
2009
A miniseries of Gone by Michael Grant
kanaeverlost
Allister
Death.
Death.
It was winning. Death was winning. How could this be possible? I wanted to live my life. I wanted life. The battle between life and death is too hard to fight by yourself. My vision became blurred, my movements became nothing, and my voice just wasn't there. There was nothing I could do. I was in no shape of fighting this battle. No way in shape of winning.
No one knew I was here. No one. I had no one to help me. I need someone to come. Someone who could win this battle of life and death for me. People have been coming in and out of the house, with no notice of a boy struggling for his life upstairs. I heard the whispers from below of kids like him trying to find food, but with no luck. I tried to make some noise so that someone would come upstairs and help him but no one ever did. They all thought someone was going to hurt them if they came up stairs. They left with no moment to lose. From that moment on I knew I was going to die.
That is when I saw her.
She had shoulder length black hair and was half done in a bun; her bright green eyes looked at him in horror. Was she scared of him or of what he became? She was wearing jeans and white t-shirt with three lines of red, orange and yellow off to the side. Who was this girl? Would she be the one who would finally help him?
In an instant she was gone; I stared at the door so two minutes, and just as I was about to give up she raced over to me and placed my head on to the pillows. She was the only person who cared. She gave me a sip of water and I took it with no hesitation. She then lowered her head to meet my ears and whispered, "Don't worry I will be back." I felt relief for the first time. She was the only person I could count on now. Even if she didn't come back, that moment of relief was enough. As she left out the door I feel asleep for the first time.
The next time I see her must be a half hour later. She was holding something in her hands. She raised it up to show me then went back down stairs. I heard her going through the cupboards looking for something. Pots, maybe. A little bit later she is back with me. Feeding me a little bit of mashed potatoes. The smell of it is intoxicating. I want to devour it. But, I know if I do I will throw it all back up. I will not be able to hold it in. So slowly I swallow it, not taking too much at once.
I want to cry but the tears will not come. I want the pain to stop but it will not. I want this battle to be won but it will take time.
It feels like it has been a life time. She stood by me every day, through the good and the bad. I am a little child to her, one she needs to feed and bath. It has been just over three weeks since I first saw her and now I am getting my strength back with each passing day. I wish I could talk to her, tell her everything. Everything I am thankful for.
I feel asleep for an hour and she was gone. Maybe getting food. For the first time in a while, it felt like my strength came rushing back to me all at once. I place either hand on either side of me and pushed. I tried to pull myself up to a sitting position, but failed. My arms were not strong enough to hold me up, but that will not stop me.