Lights

My name is Luna. I used to be the bright side of the moon, the light in the night, or at least that's what my mother told me. But these days I was no longer the light in the dark for I had been sucked into the nothingness myself.

No visions of sugar plums are dancing in my head instead I'm going through another round of chemo and fighting against cancer.

My dream ends abruptly and my brain kicks on.

It's Christmas Eve.

My eyelids fluttered open giving me a lovely view of reality. My reality consists of a white room, with linoleum flooring that's suspiciously sticky. While the room smells pungently of Lysol with a hint of vanilla. All topped off with one bed, three of those good posture chairs and one wide window.

That window is the only entertainment I have. The result? I usually stare out of it for hours at a time. Today, the curtains were slightly parted allowing moonlight to leak into my room. It crawled across the floor, casted an eerie shadow over my mother, who is curled up in one of the chairs, before finally caressing my bed post.

I threw a glance at my mother her mesmerizing green eyes hidden under tired eyelids. I don't blame her for sleeping; I can't imagine how hard it must be to have a daughter with cancer. I've pretty much drained her dry, financially and mentally.

But having her laying here looking so vulnerable it's the perfect time to go outside and see the moon. Right now is my time. I throw the covers off of my legs and quickly pull the IVs out of my arm. My legs and arms shake with the excitement of what I'm about to do. I carefully stretch out my legs and place my bare feet onto the linoleum floor.

The cold seeps through my legs and into my starving muscles, giving them the kick they've been waiting for. I take a small, shaky step towards the door. The kick is obviously not enough because I stumble into the dresser that stands right next to my bed. Frustration clouds my thoughts in a smoky fog, but it's not enough to propel me to quit just yet.

I'm gripping the side of the dresser as my legs wobble beneath the weight of my body. After months of sitting the muscles in my legs, built up from years of track, have slowly deteriorated making it harder than I thought to move about. I slowly try to steady myself, pushing my knee against the mahogany drawers, but I'm shaking now more than ever. I look up from my sickly thin fingers only to meet striking steel eyes staring back at me.

I almost scream out in fright, before I realize I'm staring into a mirror. But it's not my face looking back at me. It's a corpse. Once beautiful rosy cheeks are now hollow and stuck to protruding cheekbones. A full lively face has had pain and shadows cast over it, and only fractured sunlight from the windows, has turned the skin an unhealthy shade of grey....

And the head. An ugly lumpy thing it is now compared to the lush black hair that used to dangle around chin level. Bright and shining when I walked into this hospital, now I am a shell of who I used to be. All my happiness has been sucked out through IVs full of chemo and other drugs.

The time I had spent in here turned me into a common figure from some child's nightmares. A feeble twig of a girl, limbs that are not capable of holding up the little body weight I had left, a fixed thin line as a mouth instead of a smile. I shut my eyes quickly the pain of noticing how much I have changed shocking me down to the core.

I was no longer the Luna that I came into this room as.

No longer the light, happy, care-free girl I used to be. My mother used to say I always reigned over the bright side of the moon. But after my first treatment, I accepted the fact that death was a looming possibility. Slowly over time I had rotated like the planets, and before I could stop it I was the dark side of the moon facing away from the sun. Defeat washed unto me as if it was a tidal wave and I was the shore. The demeanor my ridiculous doctor referred to as 'the bad place' came rushing back to me and suddenly I no longer believed I could make it outside on my own.

A lone tear slipped out of my eye as I pushed myself away from the mirror, stumbling and then falling into one of the chairs.

That one tear was followed by a couple more tears and they created a trail down my cheek. The tears contained everything; all the things weighing on my mind came flowing out. Some of the topics were so heavy that the tears practically burned as they raced down my cheeks, landing on my skinny legs with a soft plink.

My shoulders hunched forwards accepting defeat, when a sudden flash of light, most likely from thunder, illuminated something in the hallway.

A plain wheelchair. Maybe if I couldn't fully walk myself to where I wanted to go, I could wheel myself there. A sudden rush of hope took to flight in my heart and I gripped the edge of the chair. Pushing myself up with a great struggle I forced myself towards the doorway, and knocking over a tray filled with mashed potatoes, a half-eaten sandwich, and a glass of juice, on the way.

Incapable of controlling my limbs fully, I rocketed myself into the wheelchair and landed face first in the nasty seat. I tried to not take in too much of the toxic scent as I maneuvered myself into the correct position and placed my hands on the wheels. After that little debacle my breath came out in pants which told me how out of shape I was.

Looking through the doorway I glanced one last time at my room, the food I had knocked over was still in the doorway and the juice had spilt and was creeping towards my mother.

There was no doubt in my mind that she would be outright furious when she discovered that I had left my room without notifying her, but there was no way she would let me go if I told her where I would be.

Using my skinny fingers, I pushed the wheels causing the chair to start to roll. Leaving that room made me feel like a gigantic weight had been lifted off my chest. All the suffering I had endured in there. All the treatment I had to go through just disappeared as soon as I started to roll away. It wasn't too hard to get the hang of it and so I started to head towards the exit.

The first thing I passed by was a large wall of windows. It was hard to see out of it because it was covered with a thin layer of frost and ice but the glimpses I could catch were scenes of pure beauty.

The streets below were coated in blank snow, sitting perfectly still as the wind kicked up, piling more on top of it. The street also had a glossy, blanket of white sitting on top of the cobblestone roads.

But it was silent and no cars were rushing through trying to get in last minute shopping. The lamp poles on the sidewalks were twinkling, illuminating the abundant puddles of ice. Everything was in a festive spirit. Tinsel and holly wrapped around the black poles and each garbage can was donned with a small plastic snowflake. The quaint, quiet shops had left their neon signs on giving the windows a jolly aura. As I looked on from the window the holiday spirit was presented with such a naïve joy that it was almost painful. When I couldn't stand the brightness of the signs and the ice on the glass became too thick, I kept going.

As I rolled slowly down the hall trying not to wake anyone, I noticed that the staff had put up Christmas decorations. Colorful, shimmering light illuminated the dark hallways, paper angels, small Christmas trees, and multicolored paper Santa Claus probably made by the children's ward.

The lights swept over the decorations, casting a merry glow as the holiday spirit practically radiated off in waves. I paused to admire how jolly the workers and patients could be considering they were probably dying or surrounded by death.

I guess some people weren't as subjective to the dark side of the moon as I was. It was hardly easy for me to be jubilant while going through my last round of chemo, so how these people did it was a mystery to me.

Shaking my head, I continued wheeling myself to the nearest exit. After traveling down many hallways that were just as decorated, if not more than the first one, I found the exit I had been searching for. As the wheels rolled closer to the exit door, my heart traveled up my spine so it could pound in my ears. I slowly pushed myself off the seat and towards the door.

Catching myself on the door handle I pushed with the trickle of force I had left and stumbled outside. I had been here once before once the doctor told me that I had cancer; that was when my mom showed me this place. All at once the ferocity of the cold hit me. It was as if I had jumped into a swimming pool in the middle of winter. Snowflakes from the ongoing blizzard burned into the thin hospital dress I had on, and mixed with that was rain. Neither was gentle, the drops felt like hailing bullets when they hit my back. The frigid air whipped at my face and my eyes started to water making it hard for me to see anything. But everything, the freezing snow and the biting rain, was worth it for the first breath of fresh air I've received since I was diagnosed.

A snowflake floated down slowly and I relished the feeling as it melted into my cheek. As I stood in the snow gathering on the ground, the rain pounded into my back, my feet became numb and the feeling spread around my body. My knees gave out after a few minutes of standing on my own.

I dropped to the ground and my knees were suddenly washed with frigid snow. It was like a shot to my muscles. After a couple seconds just kneeling there the ground peeked through the snow and the gravel of the roof embedded itself into my flesh. But I hardly noticed, nor did I care.

I could die from pneumonia right when I won against cancer, I could freeze out here and I wouldn't care. I had made it. But, my full mission is not yet complete though, not until I see the moon.

Moving my knees, through the snow, I pushed against the rain getting closer to the edge of the terrace. The bars around the terrace were thin and covered in ice and snow, making them too cold to touch.

I looked up ignoring the floating snowflakes coming down onto me, glanced through the stars littering the black abyss, and stared at the full moon.

"Long time no see friend," My voice croaked out those few sentences and suddenly blinding lights flickered on.

I pulled one of my hands off the floor and shielded my eyes; I looked through the rain, to peer at the brightness. I couldn't help but notice how my hand was shaking uncontrollably, yet I put the fact aside to squint my eyes trying to see what had been lit. When I discovered what it was I let out a snort.

Christmas lights.

They were strung around the terrace door and looped into intricate designs, such as the word Noel and a Christmas tree. The whole scene breathtakingly gorgeous and a part of me couldn't help but wonder who had turned them on.

"They're trying to bring me back to the light," It takes me a while to get the sentence out and I sluggishly turn my head back to the moon. More rain sliced against my cheek and my moment of euphoria was shattered as the bone chilling cold hit me. "I don't think it's gonna work." I think I'm stuck on this side of the moon.

The twinkling lights cast a glow that warmed my heart but not my freezing limbs. I cannot feel my earlobes or nose anymore. Not able to take the chill I started trying to crawl my way back to the door, but barely got half-way before I couldn't feel my fingers or toes anymore. The whipping wind and now slowing rain made it harder for me to move, and the coldness seeped past my hospital dress and skin down into my bones.

A heavy sleepiness was seeking passage into my limbs and after a little while of fighting it I just couldn't anymore.

I moved my head slowly onto the ground and felt the snow turn mushy when it came in contact with my face. The wetness shocked me, yet not nearly enough to wake me out of my sleepiness. Sleep. The five letter word sounded better and better every second.

My eyelids fluttered shut and I felt small pieces of ice frozen to my lashes. Despite the small voice in my head screaming at me to stay awake, I accepted the veil of slumber over myself and relaxed.

"Goodnight moon," I whispered as the bright lights became less and less visible through my eyelids. I lifted my lips up into a small smile. And I swear, as I let myself dip under, that I saw the moon smile back.

~~

It was Christmas Day when they found her.

Luna lay sleeping on the snow for forty-five minutes before the door to the terrace bust open.

With the wind tearing at her hospital dress, and the fact that it was already completely soaked had not helped her fight the cold.

"You're gonna be okay baby we've got you now." A nurse bent down and picked up the girl asleep on the ground with great ease. Although the nurse could barely hide the fear she felt when she touched the girl's chilled skin. Nearby doctors were trying to control the hysterical mother screaming for her child. But the girl couldn't hear any of this.

Luna was outside for an hour and fifteen minutes. It took her less than that to gain happiness from seeing the moon. In that time she also reached the light side, whether she thought she was there or not.

Maybe Luna wasn't as far gone as she believed. Maybe all she needed was a little light to bring her back....

And in those last few moments that was exactly what she received.

Lights.

by hastagyouwish