Fighting flames

I bolted up in panic,

strands of hair stuck to my forehead, my body covered in sweat, taking deep breaths to calm my body down. Nothing new, just the same old night terrors.

I sit up and look for my phone. 4:12 ugh, I groan

For once, I would like to have a good night's rest, but I know that's highly unlikely.

I decide to put on my headphones and listen to some music to distract myself in the meantime. I know going back to sleep is practically useless anyway, so I stay like this till 7 in the morning.

I tried to stand up, and I could feel the pain immediately starting to shoot through my spine and down my legs. I tried to ignore it as much as I could and made my way downstairs, where I found my mom making breakfast. She looked at me and gave me a sad smile.

"Hey, I made your favorite French toast, she says with a smile.

I try to smile back. "Thank you," I said quietly and sat down. I could hear my siblings footsteps upstairs; they were probably making their way down for breakfast. I saw one of my younger sisters, Eileen, first; she made her way to the table.

"Good morning, "she mumbles as she tries to make a plate for herself.

"Good morning, "I reply as I watch her shove all the food down. I shake my head. I swear, I don't understand how she can eat that much.

"Alanna," my mom calls my name. I look up at her.

"Yes"I say

"Try and eat some of your food; at least half is okay," she says with concern.

I nodded my head and tried to take small bits and fight the nausea that arose in the back of my throat. My sister looks up from her plate.

"If you don't want it, I'll eat it, "she states with a mouth full of bread.

I laughed I swear she's never full, which makes sense because my dad used to call her stomach a trash can with no end.

I look at her. "Don't worry, I've got you," I say.

My mom looks up. "No, you need to try and eat, "she says, and then looks at my sister, "and you need to stop."

Eileen just rolls her eyes. I try to finish my food when I feel a sharp shock on my leg. I groan. My mom immediately comes to my side.

"Are you ok? Do you need anything? "she asks, looking concerned.

I try to keep my composure, put on a fake smile on my face, and say, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? she asks.

I give her a small nod and slowly get up and head to the couch to lay down while grabbing my fictional book. I always loved books; they're a great place to escape, live, and experience other lives, even if they're not real. After I was diagnosed with the rare condition that affects my nerves, there's not much I can do, especially since I live with severe chronic pain on a daily basis. It doesn't change the emotional and physical trauma it causes, especially when you feel like your body is literally on fire.

My parents went crazy trying to improve my life after a freak accident. Who would have thought that going to the hospital to get gallstone surgery would become such a living hell for me and anyone close to me? After that surgery, I started having this weird freak accident after any small injury to any part of my limbs. My arm would swell, turn red, and have other colors that even doctors didn't know what to do or what caused it. After many hospital visits and lots of procedures, they finally realized it was a condition called complex regional pain syndrome, or the suicide disease, as people like to call it. Just what any parent wants to hear a doctor say. After that, my life took a huge turn for the worst.

I'm not allowed to do anything even close to dangerous because even a small bruise or cut can become infected really quickly and become a much bigger deal, which explains why mom is scared of anything I do. It's really horrible; nobody wants to watch their kid in pain and not be able to do anything about it. And it's not like there is a cure either; they just try to shove a bunch of pills that don't work and cause other issues, and it's not like the pain medicine really helps that much. I've had nerve blocks and was good for maybe 6 months before it started once again.

My mom always tries to act like she's got it all under control, but I've seen her breakdown and try to hide her cries at night when I'm having a flare-up. I also know she misses my dad. I miss him too. Since he passed away, it's never been the same. I know it broke him too. No kid should have to watch their father breakdown at a hospital, fighting with doctors just so they can at least control the pain. But of course, hospitals see anyone with chronic pain as drug seekers and treat them the worst, which is why I'd rather endure a bad flare-up than go back there.

Plus, at least I've learned how to control it a little better now; I know that heat helps, and my dad got me into medicinal weed, which, surprising enough, works. My dad always used to say, "I'd rather she be laughing and having the munchies than seeing her in pain and not being able to do anything. I smile at the thought of how much I missed him. It's only been two years since he passed away, and it still feels like it was just yesterday.

I try to continue reading my book and immerse myself in the magical world of werewolves and magical creatures. I spent most of the morning and afternoon on the couch, only getting up to take a shower or go to the bathroom and then sitting back down. At least if my brain is distracted, I try not to think about the burning pain in my leg at the moment. I watch as my younger brother and sister leave for school for the day. I spend most of my time alone, or in the few moments when my mom comes to bring me a snack and my medicine,it's like the world is slowly moving on and I'm stuck in the same pattern.

I watch Eileen come plot on the couch next to me at the end of the day. She's on her phone as usual, texting her friends, and she looks up at me.

Dude, you should really do something else. I don't understand how you can read so much. I literally get a migraine just from looking at you, "she tells me. I roll my eyes.

"There is nothing wrong with reading; it stimulates my brain, "I tell her.

Bullshit, I've seen the stuff read."

"Leave me alone."

"I'm sorry, I'm just voicing my concerns. You know your prince won't come knocking on the door, right?"

Yes, Eileen, I am well aware of that." I look up from my book at her and roll my eyes at her.

She looks up from her phone, and you can see her tan skin and blond, curly hair. As annoying as she is, I can't deny that she's beautiful. She's got my mom's looks, with her perfect jawline and sun-kissed skin. Everyone always told her she could be a supermodel if she was a little more skinnier—not that she's fat in any way. She's just more on the muscular side, and I wish I was like that at times, especially since everyone thinks she's tough, never sick, and nothing bad ever happens to her. I can't help but feel jealous, even if she's my sister. I'm pale with brown eyes and brown hair. Everyone always jokes that I look like a doll or Snow White. It's not really a compliment, either. I know I'm not ugly, but they always say how skinny and frágil I look.

"You know what? It's Friday. Why don't you join me and come to work with me?"

"Eileen I'm not going to work with you; that's weird, "I tell her.

No, it's not, plus I'm not really working today; I'm just going for fun."

"I doubt mom is going to let me go to a club with you; you know how she gets, plus my leg hurts."

Oh, please, you're grown as a woman; you're literally 23; she can't force you to stay; plus, what difference does it make? I get you're in pain, but you'd rather be stuck here like an old lady in pain or go put something hot on and go have some fun; plus, you can always use your pen if you're in a lot of pain." She tried to reason with me.

Please, you're making me depressed by being here all day. Maybe you'll meet a hot guy." I roll my eyes at that. Yeah, right. As If any guy wants to deal with me, sure, they might think I'm pretty at the beginning, but once all my medical problems become too much for them, they all run, and I don't really blame them. Nobody wants a girl with health issues, no matter how great you are.

Yeah, right, because that's what I need, "I say sarcastically.

"Yeah, I do think that's what you need. Please do it for me; you'll be fine. Marco is going to be there and take care of us. of us. I promise you. You'll be fine. You might have fun"

I think about it. It really can't kill me to go out only for tonight. Sure, I'll have to convince Mom, but she always agrees with me , especially since she always thinks I'm one step closer to being severely depressed. Plus, her boyfriend, Marco, is the nicest,always trying to help. He's more like an annoying brother I didn't ask for, but I know he's just making sure we are taken care of, so maybe one night it's not so bad.

I groan, "Fine, I'll go, but I'm doing my own makeup. Last time I felt like a hooker,"

She laughed, "Yay, and no, you didn't. You looked hot. Sorry, I don't do your makeup like a fairytale princess, but more like a woman. Alana, you really need to mature eventually."

"Leave me alone; I just don't like lots of stuff in my face." I stand up and pull my arm out for her. "What are you waiting for? I'm not telling mom by myself." I tell her

She groans but grabs my hand, and we start making our way upstairs.