Warning: mention of character death, strong language

to be human

i.

No one asks Daphne how she's doing anymore.

No one ever fucking asks, and she knows she should be grateful that everyone cares so much about her sister's proximity to death but all she can think is, Why doesn't anyone care about me?

Some days, it takes all her energy not to scream.

Some days, she screams anyway.

ii.

Her parents spend hours by her sister's side, fretting and throwing money at whatever hopeless cure they think they've stumbled upon that particular day.

None of the cures ever fucking work, but that doesn't stop her parents from putting their faith (and the contents of their wallets) into them every time.

Daphne doesn't have the heart to tell them that no amount of money will make her sister better.

iii.

"She's dying," the doctor says, a note of finality in her voice. She pauses, and then— "I'm so sorry."

"What good is 'sorry'?" Daphne wants to scream, but her mother beats her to it.

"Sorry," her mother says in a voice bordering on tears. "'Sorry' won't heal our baby girl."

Her dad wraps his arms around her mother and kisses her cheek. "We have to be strong, Lydia."

"I'm done being strong," her mother weeps.

That night, Daphne prays that her sister will pass quickly and painlessly. Not because she's a monster, but because she's tired. She's so fucking tired of it all.

iv.

When her sister dies, Daphne doesn't feel sad.

She feels...relieved. She feels so fucking relieved, not just for her sister, but for herself and her family. Illness doesn't have a hold on them anymore. They're free to live their lives however they please.

Everyone expects her to be sad, but she isn't. She's finally remembering what it feels like to not live in the shadows of her sister's illness, and maybe that makes her selfish, or maybe it just makes her human.


WC: 317