Fulowa
Nura 7th 1024
There at her desk sat Fulowa, trying to write in her red journal. The left page was covered in words that had been violently scratched out, dark jagged lines cutting through every sentence. Small tears had formed where her pencil had dug into the paper. The right page held her latest attempt.
There are people who are lucky and there’s some who aren’t. It’s all just luck of the draw with what you get. Yet we just have to make do with what we have. Through all of the pain we have to find the strength to continue on.
Fulowa, wearing a long-sleeved black sweater, pressed the eraser against the paper and rubbed harder and harder. She erased the lines on the paper and tore a hole in the paper. Resting her head on the desk and her short black hair falling down. Letting out a soft sob into her arms.
How can I have the strength to go on? I hate my life. It’s not like I have anything going for me. I’m so tired of this and this stupid journaling. This doesn’t fucking matter. I don’t matter.
With a surge of jagged frustration, she snatched the red journal and hurled it toward the door. The expected thud never came. Instead, the notebook was met with the soft, decisive slap of a hand catching it mid-air.
Alexis stood framed in the doorway, the journal captured effortlessly in her grip. She leaned a shoulder against the frame, she had a confident posture. A curtain of silken black hair spilled over the front of her simple blue t-shirt, the hem over fitted, faded indigo jeans. With one hand resting firmly on her hip, she watched Fulowa, a smirk on her face.
“I’m sorry Alexis…” Fulowa muttered.
Alexis stepped over to the desk and sat it back down on the desk. She rested her hand on the desk and looked down at her. “Your eyes are so red…”
“Just shut up…” Fulowa replied, turning her head forwards to the wall.
Alexis lifted her hand and slammed it down on the desk making Fulowa jump and look back at Alexis with a glare.
“Stop talking to me like that. You’re still here. That has to mean something.”
“There’s no point! You don’t have it!” Fulowa snapped back, gritting her teeth and tearing up.
“I don’t, but Fulowa mom wants you to still try to live.”
Fulowa turned back to the wall and lowered her head. Alexis put her hand on Fulowa’s shoulder rubbing it and Fulowa’s shoulders trembled as she started to cry and lowered her head back on the desk.
At the dinner table Fulowa was eating a bowl of her Harodai style egg rice along with her sister and mother. Mai watched the two of them eating from her own bowl and set down the chopsticks. She turned to Alexis who was still eating the egg rice. Then Mai shifted to observing Fulowa who was now eating a rice ball. “Have you been journaling Fulowa?” Mai asked.
Fulowa finished the rice ball. “I don’t want to do it…it only makes me aggravated. The doctor told me to avoid anything that stresses me out. You know what anger does…”
“You have to get out your thoughts somehow.” Mai replied.
“Well I’ll find another way…”
Fulowa yawned and covered her mouth. “I’m going to sleep early…I’m tired…”
“Fulowa…tell me if you need anything.” Mai replied softly.
Fulowa got up from the cushion and while walking to her room said. “I will…”
Nura 8th 1024
Fulowa tossed and turned in her bed before finally staying still and hours passed by. She slept at 8 PM and was still asleep until the early morning. Her door opened and Alexis walked inside and went to her bed. Alexis sat on the edge of the bed and gently nudged Fulowa’s shoulder. “Hey…wake up.”
Fulowa slowly cracked one eye open before letting it fall shut again. Even lifting her head felt like trying to push through wet sand. She let out a tired groan. “I’m tired…”
Fulowa rubbed at her eyes.
“...Five more minutes.”
“You’ve been asleep since eight.”
Fulowa let out a shaky breath.
“I know...”
Alexis nudged her again.
Something inside Fulowa finally snapped.
“Get out of here before I lose it.”
“Look mom told me to wake you up okay.”
“Leave me alone!” Fulowa snapped.
“Fine. Do what you want. I’m tired of fighting with you every day.”
Alexis sighed and left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her. Fulowa buried her face deeper into her pillow. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears began to gather. A few moments passed before she slowly opened her eyes.
“...I’m sorry, Alexis...”She rubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.
“I just...can’t today.”
Fulowa remained motionless beneath the blanket. She wanted to get up. Instead, her body felt too heavy to move. Her eyes closed shut again.
Fulowa slowly pushed herself upright and sat on the edge of the bed. She stayed there for a long moment, waiting for the room to stop spinning. A yawn escaped her as her eyelids threatened to close again. She just sat there with her eyelids still heavy and got up. Her legs were slightly wobbly. She steadied herself against the bedframe before reaching for the wall. Keeping one hand against it, she slowly made her way down the hallway, each step careful and unsteady.
She went into the living room and saw Mai at the table with a laptop. Fulowa let out a tired groan and attempted to say something. Mai’s expression changed the moment she saw Fulowa. She hurried across the room before Fulowa could even speak. She put her hands on her hands on her shoulders. Fulowa looked down, but Mai lifted her head by her chin. Dark circles rested beneath Fulowa’s eyes, and her eyelids struggled to stay open.
“Sweetheart... we’re going back to the doctor. You’ve been sleeping too much. I’m worried.”
“I’m...fine mother,” she said with a yawn.
“No, you’re not. We’re going today.”
“I…I…don’t want to be in the hospital again.”
Mai’s eyes watered. “I know,” she paused. “I can’t lose you too.”
Fulowa’s lip trembled. Without saying another word, she stepped forward and buried her face against Mai’s shoulder. Mai wrapped both arms around her and gently rubbed her back. Neither of them spoke.
Fulowa sat perched on the edge of the examination table, the thin sanitary paper crinkling loudly beneath her with every shallow breath. Across the small room, Dr. Logan looked up from a tablet, his glasses reflecting the clinical glare of the ceiling. Mai sat on the very edge of a hard plastic chair, her fingers twisting the strap of her handbag into a tight coil.
“The blood work confirms what we suspected,” Dr. Logan said, his voice measured and calm. He turned the screen toward Mai, though the graphs and numbers meant little to Fulowa. “The fatigue isn’t just a side effect of her mood, Mai. It’s a direct result of the disorder. Her red blood cell count is dipping into the lower margins again.”
Mai leaned forward, her voice trembling slightly. “But she’s been sleeping so much. Yesterday, today…she barely has the strength to walk to the kitchen.”
“That’s the nature of it,” the doctor replied. He shifted his gaze to Fulowa, his expression softening behind his spectacles. “Fulowa, be honest with me. Have you been consistent with the medication?”
Fulowa stared at a speck of dried wax on the linoleum floor. Her body felt like it was made of lead. “I take them,” she muttered. “Every morning. The blue ones and the round white ones. I don’t skip.”
“She’s been very disciplined,” Mai added quickly.
Dr. Logan nodded, tapping his pen against the tablet. “I believe you. The disorder is simply demanding more from her body right now. To combat this slump, I’m going to increase her iron dosage and add a high-potency Vitamin D supplement. We need to bolster the marrow’s production if we’re going to get her energy levels back to a functional baseline.”
“Will it help?” Mai asked.
“It should take the edge off the exhaustion,” he said. He scrolled through a few more pages of her chart. “The silver lining here is that despite the fatigue, her internal markers are holding. No signs of crisis or organ stress. Physically, she is still stable.”
Mai let out a long, shuddering breath, her shoulders finally dropping an inch. “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you.”
“I’ll send the prescription to the pharmacy downstairs,” Dr. Logan said, giving Mai a professional, reassuring smile before turning back to his notes.
Mai stood up and reached over, squeezing Fulowa’s hand. Her palm was warm, a stark contrast to Fulowa’s perpetually cold skin. “Did you hear that? You’re stable, sweetheart. We just need to adjust things a little.”
Fulowa didn’t look up. She simply let out a long, slow sigh that seemed to drain the last of her remaining air. She allowed her mother to help her down from the table, her feet hitting the floor with a dull thud.
