A story by Iris Garcia Murillo (15) and Caoileann Sexton (15), Bremore Educate Together Secondary School, Balbriggan, Co Dublin

'A small bird perches on the windowsill. It looks at me briefly, before turning around, flapping its little wings and taking to the sky'
'A small bird perches on the windowsill. It looks at me briefly, before turning around, flapping its little wings and taking to the sky'

As the wind passes through the opened window, I feel alive, more than I should be.

A small bird perches on the windowsill. It looks at me briefly, before turning around, flapping its little wings and taking to the sky. None of this seems real. It was only a year ago that I was hanging out with Rodrigo and Matias; maybe I’ll see them soon. I feel calm, at peace.

As I feel the pain leave my body, I let myself succumb to the tiredness, and drift away.

Read all Fighting Words contributions hereOpens in new window ]

****

READ MORE

I awake to the irritating beeps of my alarm. Sitting up, a smile reaches my face. A new day awaits, new opportunities. I pull open the blinds and look outside to find the sunrise with its golden-tinted colour. It fascinates me.

It’s the first day of school. I’ll see my friends and teachers again – hopefully there’s no homework; the thought comes and goes as I stand up to prepare for the day.

I walk over to my wardrobe and reach for the outfit I prepared last night. It’s a simple outfit consisting of some jeans and a loose-fitting top. After I finish getting dressed, I head to the bathroom to go and freshen up. Finished, I happily hop down the stairs. Breakfast and then school. Can’t wait!

****

Rodrigo taps my shoulder gently, trying to get my attention. I turn to look at him and with a smile on my face and ask him, “What is it?”

In his thick Spanish accent, he responds: “I need some help” – he looks down at his page then back up at me – “with question 10.”

I give a quick sigh before subtly passing him my copy under our desks, and turn to face the board. A hushed “thanks” is all the validation I need. We’ve known each other since we were kids so of course that’s the way it is. I look over to my left to see my other friend, Matias, grinning at me. I hate how easily he can read me. Damn it.

****

The school bell rings, and I’m walking home alongside Matias and Rodrigo. As we pass by a few neighbourhoods, I notice that the trees’ leaves have turned, into an array of fiery colours, and I think of how nice it is to finally be back to normal, walking beside them as we all smile and laugh occasionally at Matias’s jokes, and complain a little about our day. It really makes me feel happy. A few minutes later we arrive at an intersection, which is Matias’s cue to split off from the group. We wave goodbye to him and tell him that we’ll see him in school.

Now it’s just me and Rodrigo.

****

I’m late for meeting Rodrigo and Matias but they’ll have to wait because I forgot to feed Missy, our Moluccan cockatoo.

I head into the livingroom where I find her, idly waiting in her cage. We got her when I was nine after me begging for years – I really wanted a pet bird, okay? – and I love her to bits.

I can feel her eyes on me as I take out the bird food and open it. I smile while I open her cage and set some food inside a little bowl situated at the edge.

“There you go, Missy” I tell her softly. She begins to play with her food. Weird – usually she eats it right away. I put back the bird food and turn to see her staring at me once again.

Something is wrong but I’m sure she’ll finish it later. Maybe she’s just not hungry.

I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Rodrigo and Matias. “Sorry for the wait, be there soon!”

I didn’t think much of it back then; I had other things in mind. I was so carefree.

****

It’s only been a month since school started up again and I’m already missing out on a week of it because of this stupid fever. My head feels heavy and the lights in the room are just so unnecessarily bright. This sucks. I just want to hang out with my friends – is that really too much to ask? It’ll be fine though. I’ll get better, I know I will. I always do.

****

Right now, I’m in the school changing rooms getting ready for PE. It’s our last class of the day and I’m exhausted. I’ve officially been in school for two days now (since the fever) and really don’t feel well. Seriously, this isn’t fair.

I feel like I’m going to get sick.

A volleyball spins towards me. My vision blurs. S**t.

It’s not until 20 minutes later that I wake up in the hospital, my mom sitting by my bed.

We do a few tests and the doctor says it’s most probable that I’ve got low iron but to come back if nothing changes. We thank the doctor and go home. Low iron, huh – what even is that?

****

Recently my sleep schedule has been atrocious. It’s not like I can help it, though; it’s the pills’ fault. They’re supposed to help me but – and I’m being honest here – I really don’t think they’re working. Taking them just feels so pointless.

****

I’m currently home from school again, sick. Why does this keep happening? Everything was going so well and then, suddenly, in the span of a few weeks, my life has been thrown off path. I’ve just come off a call with Matias and Rodrigo. They were telling me how they missed me, and, God, how I miss them too. Recently everything’s just gotten so dull and boring, and I miss hanging out with them all the time. Good thing is, Rodrigo’s taking me out to the nearby town next Wednesday, just the two of us.

****

I’m in my local hospital and the doctor wants to know, in basic terms, how I ended up passing out when hanging out with Rodrigo the other day. As I recall the moments leading up to it, the nurse beside the doctor is taking notes. After I finish and some tests are run, the doctors and nurses murmur amongst themselves until looks are exchanged and one of them sighs and looks back at me. They break the news to us, and it is worst-case scenario.

I’ve got leukaemia and from this moment onwards I’ll be taking treatment for it.

****

Slow to close, my eyes blur. The lights of my surroundings mush together until finally my mind starts up again. It doesn’t bother me as much as it usually would; I’ve become accustomed to this kind of living.

There’s a knock on my door and I see Matias pop his head around the doorframe.

“How’s our favourite hospital patient doing?”

Rodrigo walks into the room from behind him with a short “Hey.”

I let out a scoff.

“Just merry. How’s school?”

About an hour later Matias tells us he has to go so, once again, it’s just me and Rodrigo.

“It’s been kind of lonely without you, honestly,” Rodrigo says, looking down shyly.

I give a laugh.

“It better be.”

Rodrigo smiles but the intention isn’t there. There’s a short silence.

“What did the doctor say?”

I pause and look at him, and with a sullen expression, I ask, “About what?”

Rodrigo swallows slowly.

“About your treatment. You don’t seem to be getting better, Ainoa. I’m worried.

I look down.

“You’ll survive though, right? Promise?”

I hesitate, but not for long.

“Promise.”

****

The first rays of sunlight softly peek through my window. I lie awake in my bed for a bit, until I decide I want to see the sunrise, just one more time.

I call for a nurse and about five minutes later find myself situated beside the windowsill. I look down to see the hospital playground two stories bellow; and I wonder how difficult it would be to fall from such a height.

Probably not that hard.

You know, even though it’s only been a year, I feel as though I’m more mature now. I’m not the naive girl I once was. Soon I’ll be 16, yet I know now that the world isn’t as wide as it once was for me.

Confined to my hospital bed, taking one last look out the window, I feel alive – more than I should be. I watch listlessly as a small bird perches on the windowsill. It looks at me briefly, before turning around, flapping its little wings and taking to the sky.

None of this seems real. It was only a year ago that I was hanging out with Rodrigo and Matias. Maybe I’ll see them soon. I feel calm, at peace.

None of this seems real. If only it were all a dream.

****

Time seems to stop. The bird falls and dies.

Caoileann Sexton is a pupil at Bremore Educate Together Secondary School in Balbriggan
Caoileann Sexton is a pupil at Bremore Educate Together Secondary School in Balbriggan
Iris Garcia Murillo, co-author of Ephemeral with Caoileann Sexton
Iris Garcia Murillo, co-author of Ephemeral with Caoileann Sexton