"You're as cunning as always."
Lucas puffed a smoke from his cigarette stick as he obliviously stared away the glazed wall, seemingly lost in thoughts that no one could fathom. From the 20th floor of the medical empire the man reigned over, showed the nightlights of the neighboring buildings outside, the streetlight and headlights glimmered in insignificance from below the busy city road.
She took her eyes off the man in all its glorious insanity and examined the room she has been confined in. The untouched white ceiling and wall, a desk nook with stacked-up music sheets, books, cup of paint brushes, and vanity products scattered at a corner. Nothing barely changed over the years. It has always felt like time has forsaken the place.
"Want a puff?" He gestured his stick. The woman could only smile wearily from her bed back to his direction.
"No," her voice little. A mocking smirk made its way to the man's lips as he eyed her with scrutiny.
"Oh? Weren't you eager to die?"
Her attempt to laugh only came off as a weak sigh. Lucas, her self-proclaimed companion in life, or best friend as one would normally call it, put out his smoke before getting up from the couch to reach her. She watched him as he slowly kneeled beside her, took her almost freezing hand, clasped them with his as if his life depended on it.
"You're as cunning as always..." the facade of mischief finally wrecked into a messy exhaustion. Lucas, known for his demanding stature, repeated the words under his breath in a way that contradict any known identity of his. Submissive. Grieving. Frail.
Pity was nowhere felt in her chest. Even after all the years the man have become her sworn caretaker, she could only feel the hollowness from within as her eyes gazed at the cowering figure.
For someone who was diagnosed with a terminal illness, the woman was among those who only needed to obediently heed her doctors advices so as to decelerate her journey from death's doorstep. She wasn't bedridden, only just before months ago, atleast. She was capable of doing non-straining tasks; basically, most normal day to day activities.
Not until she deceived Lucas into granting her a week of freedom as reward for her commendable performance over the years, which only lasted for a few days as her own body betrayed her, too.
Was it worth it?
Did she regret it?
She can't tell. Not when numbness has successfully conquered her system now.
Her eyelids grew heavy which she didn't fight off.
"Lucas..." she managed to call out before fatigue would render her unconscious. The ventilation mask did not help to make her almost silent words anymore louder, she knew, as the man didn't even bulge from his position. So with the last of her garnered strength, she said clearly like her breath not once have failed her. "I'll be sleeping now. Get out."
She heard him chuckle, lowering her hand in her side, "Okay, I'll go as soon as you go to sleep."
He caressed her hands with his thumb. Although she always found the gesture futile. No matter how many times one would warm it up, it would always stay cold.
"Amy will be with me tomorrow when you wake up. She plans to take the kids with her," his voice started to sound slurry in her fading consciousness.
But if she could retort, she didn't want tomorrow to come. If she could, she'd lock the door and keep company away like she used to in her youth. If she could, or if there was a way, she wanted to not think anymore, not speak or see, hear or perceive anything.
If it was probable even in the slightest, may her carefully laid out plan would go as she wished this time.
Because maybe, if she forsake any form of motion and submit to total stagnancy, all the things she ran away from can finally chase her.
So, as her final deceit to her only family, she mumbled, "That's nice."
And finally fell in a deep slumber.
Avianna Millare, 29 years old, despite having the highest life expectancy rate in the history of Degenerative Neurologic Disease (D.N.D.), became another unsuccessful medical trial subject who partook the pursuit of curing the, still labeled as, terminal illness.
——— 3 months ago
Avianna slammed on the floor with a loud thud. The patients and nurses leisuring across the hallway stopped to give their sentiments of concern, although some, especially those who were with her for long, were used to it by now.
The woman got up awkwardly while laughing dryly in embarrassment. Of course she'd stumble on her feet from time to time, even as someone her age, but not that boldly. She swore it has been less frequent lately. She could only blame the institution slippers forced by Lucas on her. The clinical trials were getting more ridiculous day by day.
Sometimes she'd wonder out loud how Lucas earned his doctorate degree, which the latter would confidently answer with his charisma, to which she bluntly retort with, "that explains why all the treatment and therapy have been pure bull."
No matter, she have more pressing matters to attend to.
"Avy!" A little boy, in his pajamas, jumped out of his bed and ran to Avianna for a hug as soon as she entered the room. It took her quite a while to reach the 12th floor using the stairs by the 15th; her weekly self-imposed physical therapy. Didn't matter if it was a placebo effect or whatnot but taking the stairs made her feel invincible from her occasional leg-glitches, or so she calls them.
"Where's mom, buddy?" Avianna asked, noticing that the boy was alone after overlooking his room.
"Fetched me my school modules!"
Yohan was bright and scarce of any dullness despite his circumstances. The boy, like Avianna, has lived a quarter of his life in the medical establishment. Yet, unlike her, she's never seen the light in his eyes waver. It may have been one of the reasons why she took a liking to him, felt as though she'd be redeemed by his pure existence.
After a while of chattering about the science of slimes, evolution of chickens from dinosaurs, David and Goliath, and all things that a 7-year old would heavily ponder on, Avianna concluded that she crossed out another task from her To-Do list for the week.
As soon as the boy's mother came back, she bid her farewell, promising to bring him a little something from her trip.
Lucas makes his rounds by late afternoon to evening, so Avianna who was not short to inexperience of plans going wrong, made sure to leave the place within that time so as to avoid any unfavorable events caused by the deranged man. It was the only time he can take the bait she prepared for months. Months. This was Avianna's last shot.
Hailing a cab as soon as she stepped out the lobby entrance with a small duffle bag, wearing clothes that covered her skin and a cap, she finally sets on her final journey of revisiting the remnants of a life that wouldn't quite leave the hollowness of her heart.
The last time Avianna descended from the towering medical facility, A.L. Medical Center, was a few months back, when she and the staffs have had a press conference about her progress on undergoing the palliative care, treatment and therapies for D.N.D. developed by Lucas Maior, her sole friend. It wasn't a sight to behold to see how far advanced society has become for the past years, and how farther it was advancing. Technologies made it possible to manipulate more materials with ease. Buildings soared high in Metropolis, also known as Metro, as if challenging heaven itself. Both public and private transportations have been improved to help with deteriorating environmental conditions — although the rural district didn't suffer from such problems.
Solutions were mostly concentrated to Metro problems in any case.
So the diversity between them was strikingly noticeable.
Instead of embarking the night alone with feigned courage, Avianna booked the nearest 'hotel' she could find, as per adviced by Lucas, too, who hollered her throughout her road trip. He was relentless in reminding her of her health routine, as if years of practice wasn't enough to drill it in her soul.
Lucas fell for her lie though, yet again. All she could find was a small inn at the outskirts of the suburb, which was a few more hours away from the rural towns. It brought back a vague memory of an old town situated at the border that separated a suburb and a rural area, too — was what she told Lucas for visiting the suburban district.
Another lie; the suburbs wasn't her destination. Avianna somehow couldn't wait to meekly mock her doctor for surviving outside the city.
If somehow it doesn't go according to plan again, that is.
By daybreak, she sets back on her journey, as if chasing an intangible race.
Before half a day could finish, as Avianna woke back to her senses from a shallow sleep, the sight of majestic fields and trees overwhelmed her view. It knocked out any lingering weariness from her system. The clear sky fell far from shy to illuminate the vastness of the land outside the moving bus. How was it possible? That the progress of the rural far surpassed the city's? She could never explain. All she knows is that those buildings could never replace the proudness of the mountains behold over the horizon.
"Must be ya'r first time around the area, huh?" is what an unfamiliar voice said amidst her trance, only to realize it was a woman beside her, busy peeling off a small orange. "Want some?"
Avianna was reluctant. Was it her the woman was talking to? She would've declined, irregardless — if not for the woman taking her hand for her to hold the fruit involuntarily, dismissive of any caution between strangers, saying there was no need for such thing in small towns.
"... thank you," she carefully took it to her mouth. The sour juice that was made foreign to her years ago instantly conquered her buds which revived a farfetched memory.
"Where ya' headed to?" the woman, turning out to be at her late 30's with slightly evident wrinkles at a closer look, pried, peeling another orange.
"Redemption Cathedral," was her reserved reply.
"Oh. Doin' Visita Iglesia? There a'ton of 'em in the neighborin' towns. Though the bus' hard to catch. Ya' better rent a private ride or somethin'..." the woman could only complain further about how the vehicles were not exactly accessible in the area, which led to a related story about a relative who maneuvers a truck for a living, and so much more that Avianna could remember.
It wasn't only the Cathedral she got to visit that day. There used to be a park a couple of blocks away, to which she found was far maintained and still open to the public upon reaching. But like the church visit, she couldn't linger. There were a few stalls and stores she wanted to find, too. Some went out of business a few years back, she assumed, when they were nowhere seen. However, she still gathered a haul of all things that piqued her interest, ranging from candies to tetra pack snacks and miniature toys.
In that week, Avianna was no city girl. No habit of checking the content labels or expiration dates, no bitter drugs or relaxant shots, nor palliative medicines, no assistive devices strapped on her body, or vigorous laboratory tests. There were no sets of rules to follow, no tasks to fulfill.
She was just there, a passerby or former resident, merely existing.
All for the sake of abandoned memories, she had to be there again... no matter how partial.
Although most things known to her were no longer there.
Avianna was gasping for air. It was the next morning, when Lucas was on her holographic device in a farce of collectedness, counseling her as she breathes. And here she thought she'd escape the clutches of protocols for a week, atleast.
How severe was it for dyspnea to kick in a mere day of no drugs? Or assistive technology? Or Lucas with his patience snapping?
But alas, it finally convinced her how her existence was solely at their mercy.
"My staffs will be there with you in a minute. You best be grateful that we currently have a medical team stationed there, Avianna," was what he said soon after she calmed down. His voice may have been restrained but his expression was void of any tolerance.
Lucas had every reason to express his distaste and disappointment, significantly as her friend; but as someone who was serious about his line of work, when needed to, he couldn't bring himself to do so. Inflicting or contributing any form of stress and displeasure to his patient was something he didn't find ethical, most especially one who was sensitive to it. But then he could atleast show her of his dismay, although he can't help sounding like it, too.
Avianna fell into an automated state as Lucas went on with his daily diagnosis and counseling. Having her back leaned on the bed's headboard, and words slipping from one ear to another along with her auto-pilot responses, dragged her back to years of being confined in that monochromatic place.
At that moment, Avianna confirmed two things: first, the treatments and therapies weren't pure bull; her limbs felt almost nonexistent right then and there, almost as if they were detached. It proved how a day without those could be fatal and frightening. Huh, frightening? Second, the same treatments and medicines was what caused the hollowness from within.
Before she could even realize, tears cascaded down her cheeks like a silent howl to the unfamiliar fear slowly caving in her chest. They streamed relentlessly; more and more and more, though as if they lost all meaning not to.
"... Avianna?"
"I can't feel my legs." Lucas was robbed of his words at her sudden confession. "I went as far as going here to convince myself of things. Everyone's working so hard to get me better... and I know you told me I may be a success... but—" Avianna choked on her words, looking away as torment struck the man's face. Yet she forced herself to lock gaze with him.
Fear swallowed whole, she proceeded; a weary smile on her face and brimming eyes of emptiness, "I can't do it anymore, Lucas. That's why I went here. For the last time, I wanted to see home."
Avianna's mind was clouded with all the memories of a life that not once have failed to haunt her and regrets she swore to carry on her deathbed.
"You..." A pause. Then, a heave of breath. "Here is your home. And I am your family. I told you, you're not alone in this. We're not giving up, Avianna. You hear me?"
Lucas must've been caught off guard. He was still undertaking psychological support trainings, but he believed it was a mere moment of vulnerability for his patient. His patient was left on her own, unsupervised. He assumed that her hometown triggered unresolved traumas or people have stressed her out. Yes, he remembered her talking about living her youth in a secluded town during their university days. But... even so, she never talked about it that mournfully. So it may not be her hometown after all. Lucas was torn. Years of taking care of Avianna, he's never seen nor heard her speak about tragedy, nor grim outlooks. The Avianna he knew never owned such sentiments. The Avianna who volunteered to be his medical subject was far from giving her life up.
Lucas was far renowned now in his field. His medical interventions were recognized beyond estate territory.
Yet there was no mending a soul that has lost its light.
He managed to get her back. He managed to convince her to not stop with the treatments. But Avianna not once have stepped out of her room since then, or get up, or busy herself at her hobby nook. All she could do early on was scribble on the empty pages of her journal, when she felt like it until gripping the pen gradually became a struggle; so she eventually gave it up, too. It was deemed to be the toll of missing out on her established medical routine, and post-traumatic alienation according to her Psychologist.
"I don't want to be on life-support," Avianna said one day. Her eyes were staring obliviously out beyond the clear glass of wall of her hospital room, a sunlit afternoon reigned the city outside.
"So," then she zeroed them on the figure beside her all while, "when the day comes I won't wake up from my sleep again, and two... no, three..." I'm sorry. "... in three nights you can't get me to open my eyes, please, put me to rest."
Avianna wore an unwavering smile throughout her solemn request, perfectly masking the ominousity of such gut-wrenching words to a friend — a brother.
"I will do better with everything just as you wished, so you'll promise me this one thing, right?"
The man's expression shouted protest in silence, regret and anger raced sprightly in conflict with thoughts and emotions he have sworn to take in his grave.
Then it softened, and weariness caught up in his face.
"You're as cunning as always..." Lucas's warm hand caressed her cheek with such gentleness. Casted in a shadow of suppressed devotion, with silent waves that wrecked the denied infirmity of his heart, he made his last vow to Avianna.
"... okay. I promise."