The Hardship

Prompt: Card, Ribbon, Sign

I hated these moments where everyone pretended to be happy to see one another, with their fake smiles and sympathy, suddenly concerned with what was going on in everyone’s lives. If they really cared so much why did it take someone to be sick or dead to bring them all together again? I know life can get chaotic, but damn, picking up the phone once in a while wasn’t really a hardship.

I sat in the corner of the hospital room, watching like a voyeur, almost invisible to these people who marched into the room with a card, or a pretty bouquet with bright ribbon tied around it. They gave the usual pleasantries, feigned interest, shared old stories and babbled on as no time had passed at all. It amazed me how they interacted with one another, would whisper the word cancer like if you said it too loud they might catch it too. It made me wish for a sign that I could place above the bed that read Yo, idiot! Cancer isn’t contagious. The whole scene sent bile rising up my throat leaving a nasty taste in my mouth that kept a grimace on my face.

All I really wanted was some peace and quiet, where I could sit with my sister and tell her it was all right to let go. She’d spent two years fighting the good fight, and watching her suffer was taking a toll on me.

Finally, the room cleared and it was just the two of us again. I moved my chair beside the bed and took her hand in mine. “We have the most annoying family,” I muttered.

She laughed. “I can’t wait to see what they do at my funeral!”
WC:290