When Words Run Out of Time

When I told people my name, they used to say it was pretty, or unique, that they wished they had a name like mine.

Now -even and especially the people who already know it already- they all say "I JUST WANNA BE PART OF YOUR SYMPHONYYYYYY 🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀💗💗💗🦄🦄🦄🥰🥰🥰🎀🎀🎀💗💗💗💗💗🌈🌈🌈🌈 WILL YOU HOLD ME TIGHT AND NOT LET GO? 🌈🌈💗💗💗🎀🎀🎀🦄🦄🦄 SYMPHONYYYYYY🎀🎀🎀🦄🦄🦄🦄💗💗💗💗🌈🌈🌈"

Especially Austin. As soon as that meme started gaining popularity, it became the first thing he said every time we saw each other. It was funny at first, and we had some good laughs. But after the fifteenth time, I'd had enough. So, I did what any calm, mature person would; threaten to run him over with my wheelchair.

Very mindful, very demure.

He got the message, but somehow, it didn't stop him. People don't always take 'no' as seriously as they should. Now, that same irritation flares up in me—only it's not Austin I want to run over with my wheelchair. It's this whole situation.

It feels like a million tiny needles are being pressed into my skin at once, which intensifies the pain in my legs. They're usually just sore from physical therapy, but now they've begun to seriously hurt.

I'm sitting at the far end of the room, my head resting heavily on the desk in front of me. The world feels distant, like I'm watching everything happen underwater. The noise doesn't help, nor the fact that I'm basically dissolving into thin air. And not just me, everyone.

None of us know what's happening. The fear and confusion grows with every second we don't have an answer. Why is this happening? And more importantly—how long before it gets worse? I look around, searching the faces for some fragment of an answer. Everyone's waiting for something—anything—to change, but nothing's changing. Not for the better.

Even Samiyah doesn't seem to be doing very well. With our current condition, combined with everyone turning to her for the answers she doesn't seem to have, one look at her face and you can see her patience being worn thin.

Can't see much of anything, though... my vision's gone blurry. Is this is what my sister sees without her glasses?

I readjust my position so that my head is resting on top of my folded arms.

God, I'm so tired. Everything is just so... exhausting. Right now, all I want is to just lay down and sleep. I feel my eyelids getting heavy. The noise around me becomes muffled, almost like I'm listening through earplugs. I'm dizzy, my limbs heavy. But I'm too tired to care, too tired to do anything but let the dizziness pull me under.

Sleep, my body tells me. Sleep.

I close my eyes.

Unfortunately, the universe has other plans.

I hear a sharp, quick, loud whistle and jolt awake. Rubbing my eyes, I turn my head to see where the noise came from.

Samiyah.

She must've whistled to get our attention. Mission accomplished. I rub my eyes and wait. Guess I can see again.

Samiyah exhales sharply, her shoulders tense as she stands at the front of the room. She looks around, her eyes catching each of us to make sure we're paying attention. The deep breath she takes seems to ground her for a moment, but the faint tremor in her hands says differently.

"First of all, SIT DOWN. All of you," Her voice is firm, but there's an edge to it, an uncertainty she's trying to hide.

A short orchestra of people sitting down. I stare pointedly at Samiyah until she catches my eye.