Silver Lining - The Host fanfiction

Chapter 7 The Forsaken

"Listen, are you breathing just a little

And calling it a life?"

- Mary Oliver

Emma

Hot. Cold. Hot again. I'm not sure what I'm feeling anymore, or what I'm supposed to feel. The fever is burning me alive and if I had any say in the matter, I'd take my chances with the animals. At least that would grant me a quick death. I think.

Even wrapped up in the blanket, I'm shivering. I've lost track of time, but it must be night because I'm looking up at stars.

I used to love stargazing. There was an observation tower near our house and I've been there many times. But when I look at the stars now, I only feel fear. What else is out there? Will others find their way to this planet too? It's a big universe. I should know, my father was a scientist, coming from a long line of scientists and researchers. It's ironic really. He spent his whole life trying to solve the mysteries of the universe while aliens were already on our doorstep. It seems like such a waste of time now.

My mother was a doctor. Her father a lawyer. Well, he'll be out of a job now, there are no lawbreakers left. But they still need doctors, right? I wonder if she still as that calling, wonder if she's still with my father.

How disappointed they must have been when I declared I wanted to go to art school. I don't think they took me vey seriously. I could tell by the way my mother used to look at me whenever I brought it up. There was that look in her eyes that said 'sure you'll go to art school sweetheart. Now let's look at universities.'

My father would just smile and pat my head or something.

I miss them.

Now that I'm sick, certain memories find their way back into my mind. Like that time when I was still a child and I had a serious flue. My mother stayed home from work that day. It was the first and only time she did that, but I treasures every moment of it. She had Sara make some chicken soup and she came to check on me every hour, taking my temperature, feeling my pulse.

I wish she was doing that now.

But I'm all alone.

No one is going to comfort me now. No one even knows I exist.

Well, one person does, but he's not going to look for me.

I have to move away from here. I ran out of water an hour ago. If I don't keep drinking, I'm done for.

With much difficulty I pull myself into a sitting position. Immediately the world is spinning again. There is no way I can make it to water, even if I knew where to find it.

With closed eyes I lower myself to the ground again and shiver in my blanket.

This is it then.

They say dying of thirst is a cruel way to go. Maybe it's true, I've never died before. They also say that right before you die, your life flashes by through your mind.

Maybe that's why I suddenly remember all these things.

Then again, fever can do strange things with your head.

I keep slipping in and out of consciousness, my lips are cracked and my throat feels like sand paper.

What I would give to see my parents again, one more time. This time I would appreciate them, even if they never had time for me. I would accept their ridiculously expensive gifts, no matter how meaningless they were to me.

Was I ungrateful? I didn't need their gifts, I just wanted my parents. Maybe that was too much to ask.

I feel guilty now. I remember when they bought me the red convertible, the one I refused to drive. The look on their face said it all when they didn't get the enthusiasm they expected. They even offered  to trade it for a different model. I told them it was fine, but they still gave me a second car, a black Porsche. They didn't seem to understand. I didn't need a car. I was fine by riding the bus to school. It made me feel normal.