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   I OPEN MY EYES AGAIN. My breath comes out in choked rasps as the pain shoots through my back and into my chest. I clutch my blanket with shaky fingers.

   My eyes meet with the wall clock, it's fifteen minutes past 2 a.m.

   The pain hits my head, I mutter, "Mom?"

   We're still on the sofa and I'm still laying on her chest. She's fast asleep. Yesterday flashes through my mind. I shiver.

   Dying

   "Mom."

   "Mmm," she opens her eyes. "Are you okay baby?"

   I shake my head, groaning as a splitting wave of pain takes hold of my legs.

   The TV is still running, she turns it off. "Can you stand?"

   I don't know why I start crying. I see how it breaks her heart watching me struggle through pain that she can't take away. When I was younger, she'd always say, 'God, instead of my little girl to bear all of this suffering, please give it to me and spare her.' I asked her to stop saying that, because whenever she did, it made me feel like a curse.

   "It's okay, just lean on me, we'll go to my room. You'll take your drugs and I'll do a hot compress, that should help." She wipes my tears with her thumb and kisses my head. "You'll be fine."

   I reach out and wrap my hands over her shoulder, while she grabs my waist. She pulls me to my feet as I close my eyes and hold my breath.

   We walk out slowly, my painful whimpers filling up the silence. Why do I have to suffer like this, why? I pull my Tee-shirt to wipe my eyes.

   When we get to the stairs, she asks me to climb unto her back. For a moment I don't think of the pain, I laugh.

   She laughs too. "So you have strength to laugh?"

   "Mom, come on, I'll try to walk. You don't need to carry me." I clutch her arms, vibrating through another wave of pain.

   My stomach takes a sharp twist. "Mom. Vomit. " I manage to say as I acquire a mouthful of slimy saliva.

   "Right now?" She asks, wide eyed.

   I wretch.

   She picks one of the empty flower vases by the staircase.

   I grab it from her as fast as she hands it to me, spewing all the contents of my stomach.

   It's not relief that I feel after three cycles of vomiting, it's a debilitating fatigue.

   My eyes roll in my head, mom grabs the vase and I drop to the floor at the foot of the staircase. Everything goes silent and numb as my eyes flicker to a close.

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