I can hear the rain slamming down on the roof of the log cabin in the middle of a forest which I now call my home. I wish I could feel it though, instead of just being a useless bystander while the rain just keeps falling. I've pretty much forgotten what rain looks like, I've been in the hospital so long, and I'd like to know. But no, I'm me, so I'm stuck in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere.
My parents said that it would be good to, "get away from it all, and to take a breath of the sweet sweet outdoors". In other words, they want to keep me far away from any living being, other than themselves, forever.
I think I may have romanticized getting out of the hospital, all I've done is move from being chained to one bed to being loosely chained to another. At least here my parents let me walk around the house without punishment, but of course, they still have to watch me whenever I walk, and they're not always free. Someone needs to pay the bills, and I obviously can't get a job.
While walking, I've thought of falling several times, just to freak my parents out, but then they might take away my walking privileges. Most people take walking for granted, but I enjoy it, it wakes me up a little, and to be moderately self-sufficient is good for my pride.
How can I even have any pride left? I'm being observed even while walking. What's next, are they going to have to watch me sleep?
I sit in bed thinking about these things when my mother knocks on my door. She does that a lot, I hate how she seems to think that she needs to check up on me every hour or so, I'm not some kind of sociopath who'll murder everyone when I get the chance, I just have a heart issue.
My mom is a plump, short woman. She works hard to braid her long blond hair every morning, but personally I think it's a waste of time. Dad already loves her, so why does she need to look what she seems to think is good every day? She walks in with a bowl of soup and puts in on my nightstand, which was right next to my bed.
"Hey honey, how are you feeling?" She says to me. She sits down on my bed and looks at me expectantly.
"Fine, just like last hour, and the hour before, and the hour before-" I start.
"Sorry, I'm just worried about you. I know the doctors said that you can't make any friends, and that must just make you ever so lonely," she says. She speaks softly, but simply and slowly, like I was a young child or something.
"Mom, you know that I'm sixteen, not six, right?" I ask, a little too harshly.
"Sorry, was I using a tone that made you feel like a child? It's just that, to me, you still are a child," she says.
"Well, you have to understand that I'm old enough to take care of myself, even if I can't actually do it," I say.
"I'll try my best, honey," she says before walking out of my room. She forgot to close the door; she usually does. It always ticks me off when she does that, then I have to hear the noises of everything that's going on in the house, and it annoys me to hear all of those noises in my room. Somewhere in the thoughts about door closing's importance it hits me, this is my life, I'm forever destined to be alone. I'll never get married, or have children, or go on an epic adventure. No, I'll just stay here and slowly die.
Am I truly even alive anymore? It feels to me like I'm just living a ten year death. Living a ten year death, is that really better than a ten minute life?
Looking back, everything that anyone's ever done to me, or anything I've ever complained about seems like a trivial matter. It seems so silly to even care about something as stupid as grades in school, or if a friend's mad at you, or even something like a break up. It's not like either party dies from the break up, they're just sad. Sadness is something that can be fixed, heart problems like mine, apparently, are not.
If I could wake up one day, and not have my heart condition, not have to be monitored as I walk, not have to stay in the house forever, and could finally make some friends. Well, I'd never be sad again. Once you've died, you know what real pain is, until then, all pain is just an overreaction, a joke. There is no pain like a life that can't be liven, a prolonged death that's full of nothing but pain.
"Hey, can I see Axel?" I hear a female voice ask. For once I'm glad that my mom left the door open. It sounds like my friend Larisa's voice, I haven't heard that voice in months. It looks like even living in the middle of the forest can't keep her away.
"No dear, I'm sorry, but Axel's not really allowed to talk to his friends anymore," Mom says. It would be nice to talk to Larisa, and I probably will. Normally she can get what she wants from my mom, considering the fact that my mom can't really do anything to her, and the fact that she's Larisa. Larisa almost always gets what she wants, that's just how the world works.
"Oh come on, , if I don't talk to Axel now, when will I? I just want to give him some advice, just a quick talk, that's all. What are you afraid that I'm going to do, stab his eyes out? He's my best friend, and I wasn't able to see him at the hospital at all. I just want to see my best friend one more time. One more time, Axel shouldn't have any regrets," Larisa says. I had never heard such a convincing speech from her, so perhaps she actually had something important to say. Normally she would exaggerate to get to see me when she couldn't, but she had never gone this far. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess.
My mother finally must have caved in because Larisa walks into my room soon after the conversation stops. She closes the door behind her, so whatever she wants to talk about is something she doesn't want my mom to hear. Her hair is shorter than I remember, though still blue. She's almost as tall as me, which I remember teasing her about, she's always been just a tad shorter.
"Hey Axel, how're you feeling?" She asks me. She sits down on my bed. I wonder why everyone does that.
"Well, I'm not dead yet, though sometimes I feel like that's all that's left for me. So how have you been, and why did you have you hair cut so short?" I ask. I don't really want to talk about my life, it's depressing and boring, but Larisa must have something interesting going on.
"Oh, well, my hair's short because I've been doing a lot of running around, and I don't want my hair to cause me to sweat more than I need to. Of course, I don't have the heart to cut all of it off. As for what I've been up to, nothing much yet, other than my summer job, but this fall that's all going to change. I got a job with the ERA, the Environmental Restoration Agency, we're going to help the environment, just like I've always wanted to!" She says.
"That's great, Larisa, if anyone belongs there you certainly do. So, you said you had something important to tell me?" I ask.
"Oh, you heard that? A pretty good speech, I'd say it's one of my best. There's something that I want you to think about, and I'm sure you have a lot of time to do that," she says.
"Yeah, I certainly do. What is it?" I ask.
"Do you know why I joined the ERA?"
"Because you care about the environment?"
"No, well, yes, but that's not the point. I joined the ERA because I want to be somebody, I don't want to be another grain of sand on the beach of humans, I want to do something, I want to make a difference. Even though it seems impossible, there's ways for you to make a difference too." She jerks her head towards the window, as if suggesting that I escape the house and go live my life free from the limitations. "I know you have some big dreams, and you should live 'em, no matter what condition you're in." She stands up and opens the door.
"You're going already?"
"Yeah, I've got an appointment with destiny."
"I thought Destiny left last year. Didn't her family move?"
"You just don't want me to have an epic exit, do you? Good luck Axel." And with that Larisa leaves, and closes the door behind her. I'm glad someone in the world realizes the importance of closing the door behind them, my mom certainly doesn't. Larisa's always been the one person in the world who understands things like that, the ERA certainly has a great new employe and their hands.
What she said kinda confuses me a bit though, what does she think my big dreams are? I'm not some kind of environmental protection guy, I'm not the guy who cares more than the average person about the starving children out there somewhere, I'm just me. I've never really thought about being more than just a human, about making my life worth something more than just me, but Larisa makes a good point. There has to be more to our lives than just living for the split-second joy of one thing before moving to another. There must be more than just working to live, and living to die, there has to be something more for me.
I try to think about something that I could do with my life, but nothing comes to mind. I decide to try sleeping; to see if any bright ideas come to me when I'm fully rested. I lie my head down on my pillow and try to let the warm embrace of sleep consume me, and eventually I succeed.