Disease
- So, Storm. What disease did you say you had?
I turn my look on the little girl who seems to be well over twenty-five. The boxes frown at the question. He turns his gaze, patting his lip and running his hand through his hair.
- I have lung cancer. The sounds produced by the movement of her lips barely penetrate my ears. She felt ashamed. I could see this simply because he refused to look at me. I go with slow steps to the not very comfortable chair, which I am throwing.
- Tell me about you Storm. How did they find you? He aggressively passes his hand through his hair and squeezes his eyes. Fear. I’m waiting for the answer, but a quiet silence is brewing.
- Storm, do you believe in love? I sit back in my chair, looking at the girl’s astonished reaction. For the first time she looked me in the eye and it was enough to realize she hated me.
- Yes. A prompt reply is heard in the room. I nod affirmatively, being totally satisfied with her response. I knew what she was feeling. I could feel her terror, the horror that her lungs might stop now. She wasn’t sick. He was just afraid of death.
- Specifically, what do you think love is, Storm? I focus my gaze on the butterfly panel, which I had brought a few weeks ago. His shoulders relax when she doesn’t look at her anymore.
- Love is when you give your life for someone. I heard his trembling voice, which seemed to comfort my ears. Nothing new, same answer I hear every time.
- What causes love, Storm? I turn my gaze to her, aiming her. I see her twitching, and a smile blooms in the corner of my mouth.- Correct answer! I put my hands on my little desk, which differentiated between her and the real sick person in the room.
- Tell me Storm? Do you think, though, that a simple organ can provoke your sense of fulfillment? Here I am to answer you. No, of course not. It’s just an organ, the only thing it can do is pump blood. Do you think your illness really exists? Her forehead wrinkled more than it already was, doubts began to appear. She was on the right track. Come on Storm, follow the light, feel it!
- I know it exists. His gaze falls to the ground on his dark sneakers.
- The only one that can cause disease is the brain. Your disease does not exist, did not exist. It’s just an illusion, just like love. Love means attachment, just as the feeling of being sick has attached to you. All you have to do is make him feel bad. You’re the cancer home, make him feel like he’s in hell.
