Comfortable Madness First PDF 4-13-18

First Try
“Dance for me,” Tayla said.
She stroked her piano as if it were a kitten. Slow simple
music. Gentle light filled the room like a mother’s promise. I stood
in the middle of the empty floor, filling my lungs with warm air.
“Dance for me,” she said.
I didn’t want to. I wanted to lie there and stare at the
ceiling. I wanted to sleep. But Tayla’s music coaxed a rhythm in
me.
I moved cautiously, spinning on my good leg. Muscles
bunched, out of practice. My arms rose like kelp in a tide. Tayla
watched and played and I danced. I danced. I sweated. Heat rolled
off of me, a nearly invisible wall of effort.
I didn’t make it through the whole thing. Pain flashed from
knee to hip. Black spots unfolded, grew and exploded in my eyes. I
crumpled and cried. Tayla put her hands on my leg.
“What happened?”
“I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying,” she said. “Everything will be fine.”
But she couldn’t know that. No one could. I needed to get
out of here. I needed to get away from the pity, the failure. I hated
myself. I needed to get away before things got really bad, before
the world gave up on me all together.