Chiron
I've never liked the thought of pain. Whether the pain was upon me or someone else, whether it was real or somatic, pain is pain. When I was younger I tried to avoid it. Roadkill? Leave it in the streets. Dissection in biology? Fake sick. Anything to avoid it, really.
There was a time though, the first time, where I couldn't run from pain. My best friend of five years, age 16, lay silent on the hospital bed. Looking wistfully out the window. She'd been fighting her own pain for a long time.
Four years ago, she developed cancer. Though, it was only last year that I found out. Unlike me, she was far more able to deal with pain. She always ended up smiling through. That was before it reached stage IV.
"Hi," I spoke softly. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine," she said having trouble making out the words.
My chest was pounding for me to run. I could visibly see how much she's been enduring and I didn't want to see it any longer. Though, what kind of friend would leave their best friend behind?
"The sky looks beautiful today, doesn't it?" I spoke as I gently placed my left hand on hers.
"It does," she spoke with a single tear rolling down her cheek. I wiped it away with my right hand and gently placed strands of misplaced hair behind her ear.
"Close your eyes, envision the sky, memorize how beautiful it is." She did so, perhaps, because this sky might have been the last one she would see. Unknown to her, however, my hand started to faintly glow with a white aura.
Her face started to regain color, her hair started to regain volume, but more importantly, she regained her smile. The doctors say that a miracle occurred that day. She had a life expectancy of two days left but they found all traces of cancer to vanish.
I know better though. Nothing can ever truly vanish, everything must be balanced, it is the law of equivalent exchange. At the same time, my left hand had healed, my right hand had started to grow malignant.
Sarcomas, the doctors told me. Stage IV. Since then, I wear a glove on my right hand to hide my pain like she did. It hurts but I have learned to smile through it. I don't run away from pain anymore. The doctors have told me I have a life expectancy of one year. I plan to make this last year count. After all, I've never liked the thought of pain.
