Amount of Life
By: Corrie Ranae
It was raining and people everywhere were running for dry and warm places to shield the whipping torrents of rain that gusted down the streets. Anyone is his right state of health would even dare the attempt of crossing the slippery streets unless absolutely necessary. Therefore, the sight of a young woman straining against the gusts was queer indeed. With an overcoat tucked tightly around her body the wind tugged and pulled and shifted her where it will; but all this girl could hear or feel was the uneven surges of her own breathing.
'In and out' she prodded herself 'Deeply in and all the way out.'
The news just given to her only hours ago had seemed to let loose the drove of wind and rain as if the heavens would weep for her.
"Terminal" said the Doctor. " I'm so sorry. You've fought for so long and so hard, it doesn't seem quite fair to you, I'm afraid. I am very sorry. And sorry that your parents could not be here for you at this time. If there is anything I can do for you my dear…" He released a deep sigh that expelled a thudding note of finality. " I am sorry my dear—truly."
'Fair' she mused 'What is so fair or unfair about this whole nightmare? It is just the way things have been for the past eight years and now it is finally gonna end. All these thousands of dollars and even more heartbreak, it is all coming down to a collapsing end.'
The rain had already soaked through the collar of her rain jacket and half way down her shirt underneath, but she merely crammed her sodden beanie down over her ears and trudged onward down the streets and continued to tell herself to breathe in and out.
But finally, when hot tears of anger and frustration impaired her ability to stand upright and every careful breath burned her lungs, she found a reprieve in a seemingly empty sidestreet whose outcroppings tended to take away most of the lashing downpour. There the young woman stood—quite still but for the unutterable sobs that racked her water-logged body. And when finally the anguish could not be held inside any longer she released such and cry that rose above the roar of the rain and wind that would have cut any down to the marrow. Then she slid down the pebbled wall and wept bitter tears and cried out to God in heaven:
"Why? Why wait this long? Why give me hope? After all this I am to be ravaged by a foe unseen? My pride and dignity stripped of me with each dawn that pierces my pensive gloom and agony with every breath! Why dear God—WHY!" and sobs took over speech.
She pounded her fists into the broken cement until it tore her palms and wedged deep grooves into the tormented hands of such a young mortal as she.
Five minutes, and hour, half the night? The girl knew not; but she had suddenly felt a chill breathe itself into her bones and caused her to raise her head in its direction.
There, easily reclined against the wall, stood a figure with nothing seen in the shadows but the pelt-pelt-pelt of large raindrops that sparkled and splashed from the tips of two large, black boots and onto the rubbled cement.
"Why call on a god in such fine weather as this? It surely can't hear you with all the racket that's going on down here with all this rain? No, it's futile—best give it up. It's easiest that way."
"Whoever said anything about this life being easy was a damned ruddy liar!" spat the girl as she unfolded her wet-through body to stand.
"Sticks and stones in this world. Not that there's much hope anyway for the likes of you."
"Shut up! What do you know? Please leave me alone!" and even though she was exhausted, confused, and did not quite know where to go, she ran down the sidestreet while trying to grope the walls for support. Still the silent figure pursued close behind.
"Get away from me! I have no need of you! Ah!" but she could barely make it down the street before she toppled over with pain that wrenched and twisted her insides like a hot poker searing for its pleasure.
Then, quicker than a blink, the tall pale figure emerged from shadow and made over to the fallen young woman.
"Get away from me!" she hissed.
"I'm getting you home."
"I don't need you help!" but another wave of pain seared again.
"Of course you don't. Now, where do you live?"
"Not. Tell—ing." she gasped.
"Fine, be ruddy stubborn then. You can thank me later."
And without so much as a by your leave he hoisted the suffering girl from the crumbling streets and began to walk quickly to where he might know a slightly more safe place than the rivered streets of California.