Sill (ext.)

Sill (ext.)

A Story by Maureen V. Hanover
"

An extended story from one of my triolets. Two girls whos worlds will never collide, and yet they are living the same oxymoron.

"

Watching from a misty sill,

Frost takes over glass.

Held for Death against a will,

Watching from a misty sill;

One more bottle, one more pill,

Empty eyes to see the last;

Watching from a misty sill,

Frost takes over glass.






I’m Meredith.

I have always lived a somewhat normal life - until I got sick. Very sick.

The doctors could never quite figure it out.

They said my illness was extremely rare and only gave me medication for the side-effects of my condition.

Sometimes it worked.

But things would always return to the way they were before - only worse.

I was so sick, I couldn’t even go to school.

I couldn’t see my friends anymore, I couldn’t see my parents.

They kept me away from people in fear of getting them just as sick as I was.

I knew there was something wrong with me, just no one knew why.

I hated it.
I remember the things they said about me.
“You poor, poor girl.”

“A sickly thing like you should see a real professional.”

“She’s too sick for society, leave her to pass alone...

...No use putting everyone else in danger.”

“Keep her away from me!”

So, I stayed mostly away from the rest of the world.

My home was a dark, damp, and musty room.

Curtains were drawn everywhere, blocking out any sunlight.
At night, well as the day, you could hear my screams of agony.

It was prison.

And I hated it.

I decided this would stop.

My medicine sat on the table.

Would I actually do it?

Of course I would.

Was there really another option?

No.

I took the pills.

All of them.

I waited for them to work.

I would have suffered anyway.

I’m Sasha.

I have never lived a normal life - I’ve always been sick. Very sick.

No one could ever figure it out.

They said my illness was mental, and they gave me medication in attempt to make some things better.

It never worked.

Things would always just keep going downhill more and more.

I was so sick, I couldn’t even go to school.

If I had friends, I couldn’t see them. My parents wanted nothing to do with me.

They kept me away from people in fear of making them just as crazy as I was.

I knew there was something wrong with me, just no one knew why.

I loved it.

I remember the things they said about me.

“You horrible, horrible girl.”

“A demented thing like you deserves to die.”

“She’s too twisted for society, lock her away for the rats...

...No use putting everyone else in danger.”

“Keep her away from me!”

So, I stayed mostly away from the rest of the world.

My home was a dark, damp, and musty cell.

There was only a single small window at the very top of the cell.

At night, well as the day, you could hear my screams of hysterical laughter.

It was prison.

But I didn’t mind.

They decided this would stop.

The drugs were passed through the slot.

Did they actually think I would do it?

Of course I wouldn't.

Was there really another option?

Yes.

I hid the pills.

All of them.

I waited for them to come back.

The rats got to me first.






I’m Meredith.

I’m Sasha.

I have always lived a somewhat normal life - until I got sick. Very sick.

I have never lived a normal life - I’ve always been sick. Very sick.

The doctors could never quite figure it out.

No one could ever figure it out.

They said my illness was extremely rare and only gave me medication for the side-effects of my condition.

They said my illness was mental, and they gave me medication in attempt to make some things better.

Sometimes it worked.

It never worked.

But things would always return to the way they were before - only worse.

Things would always just keep going downhill more and more.

I was so sick, I couldn’t even go to school.

I couldn’t see my friends anymore, I couldn’t see my parents.

If I had any friends, I couldn’t see them. My parents wanted nothing to do with me.

They kept me away from people in fear of getting them just as sick as I was.

They kept me away from people in fear of making them just as crazy as I was.

I knew there was something wrong with me, just no one knew why.

I hated it.

I loved it.

I remember the things they said about me.

“You poor, poor girl.”

“You horrible, horrible girl.”

“A sickly thing like you should see a real professional.”

“A demented thing like you deserves to die.”

“She’s too sick for society, leave her to pass alone...

“She’s too twisted for society, lock her away for the rats...

...No use putting everyone else in danger.”

“Keep her away from me!”

So, I stayed mostly away from the rest of the world.

My home was a dark, damp, and musty room.

My home was a dark, damp, and musty cell.

Curtains were drawn everywhere, blocking out any sunlight.

There was only a single small window at the very top of the cell.

At night, well as the day, you could hear my screams of agony.

At night, well as the day, you could hear my screams of hysterical laughter.

It was prison.

And I hated it.

But I didn’t mind.

I decided this would stop.

They decided this would stop.

My medicine sat on the table.

The drugs were passed through the slot.

Would I actually do it?

Did they actually think I would do it?

Of course I would.

Of course I wouldn't.

Was there really another option?

No.

Yes.

I took the pills.

I hid the pills.

All of them.

I waited for them to work.

I waited for them to come back.

I would have suffered anyway.

The rats got to me first.






Watching from a misty sill,

Frost takes over glass.

Held for Death against a will,

Watching from a misty sill;

One more bottle, one more pill,

Empty eyes to see the last;

Watching from a misty sill,

Frost takes over glass.

© 2018 Maureen V. Hanover


Author's Note

Maureen V. Hanover
The line "frost takes over glass" is referring to both actual glass on a window and the hazing over glassy eyes.

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Added on June 18, 2018
Last Updated on June 18, 2018

Author

Maureen V. Hanover
Maureen V. Hanover

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