Mikey Way: Inhale & Exhale 03

At home, I indulged in a bath. Normally I would take a shower, but mom was out of the house (who knows where) and I was worn out.

I sighed and felt as if I had melted into the warm water. It was relaxing and comforting.

I reflected on my day in content. I had a good job and met some new people. Maybe I had made my opinion of Jersey too soon. And that Mikey kid was sort of cute.

In a way, I couldn't wait to go to work tomorrow. It would be my escape from this place. And it would be Friday too. Payday. Maybe then I could afford some 409 and a cleaning rag. This place needed some serious cleaning.

The bathroom door flew open and I immediately threw my arms over my chest.

"Hey dear." Mom said clearly. Could it be? Was she…sober?

"Hi, mom." I said suspiciously.

"I found a job at one of the local diners. It has quite a bit of charm. How about you? Did you find a job?"

"Y-yeah. Hey, do you think you could give me some privacy? This is kind of freaky." I laughed nervously.

"Oh, right sorry." She smiled apologetically and then shut the door.

I fell back into the water and closed my eyes. I loved my mother when she wasn't intoxicated. She was sweet and caring. But when she tipped the bottle back, she became ugly.

I drained out the tub and wrapped a towel around myself. That was another thing I needed to buy- new towels. This one was one I had bought off a motel maid for three bucks. I had thought ahead and knew if I didn't have a towel for the first few days, I'd be upset. This particular one was a hunter green color and was hard and prickly. But it would have to do for now.

I walked into my room and noticed the window was still open a crack. I held onto my towel and with my other hand, I cranked it closed. Then I unzipped my duffle bag and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. It was chilly in the house even though it was well into June.

"Mom?" I called.

"Yes, Kayli?" I heard her answer from downstairs.

"Hey." I said. I breathed heavily; sometimes going down the stairs was taxing on me.

"What job did you get?" She asked while peeling an apple with a plastic knife she had picked up at a McDonald's.

"I'm working at Barnes and Noble."

"Honey that's perfect for you! You always loved literature."

"Yeah. And you always loved being a waitress." I said.

It was true; she enjoyed being around people. It was the only job I could ever remember her having.

"When do you start?"

"Tomorrow morning at nine. I'm working with a few interesting people, and my boss is the best."

"That's nice. Why don't you stop by the grocery store afterwards? Don't forget to by me some Miller Lite. 'Kay, hon?"

"Mom, I'm not old enough to buy alcohol." I said monotonously.

"No?" She asked in disappointment.

"No." I said in the same toneless voice.

"Okay…" She trailed off. "Well, maybe I'll go later tonight. But you can still go shopping for everything else tomorrow."

"Sure." I grabbed a plastic cup from one of the boxes and placed it under the faucet. I watched as the water filled it to the brim and then squeaked the knob to the left to shut it off.

"I think I'll go get the beer now. Don't forget to take your medication."

I set the cup onto the counter and rummaged through the same box I got the cup out of. There I found my vitamins (A, D, E and K) and also my oral antibiotics. I put those aside and leaned over the box in search of my medicine I had to inhale. I breathed in shakily when I couldn't find it.

It's probably in another box. I told myself.

I unscrewed the cap on all the bottles of vitamins and took one of each. Sometimes it bothered me to have to take so much at a time, but it made me live longer I suppose.

Over the years, I had done basically everything I could to prevent myself from slipping further. I'd seen other patients with my illness hooked up to machines, and I was glad that wasn't me. Once the doctor's told me about their suspicion that I could have cystic fibrosis, I took the sweat test. It's a common procedure used to see if you have the disease. I did. And since then, I've been running everyday and popping these vitamins as if they were candy. The running may not be seen as very smart since it gets hard for me to breathe often, but it strengthens my lungs and prolongs the inevitable organ failure.

I winced as the vitamin E caplet slid down my throat. It was slimy, but it was better than the oral antibiotics. Those tasted terrible.

As I finished off my daily dose, I walked back up to my room and found my running shoes. They were my favorite sneakers. They were Nikes, and they were silver with deep plum accents. I laced them up and stood up straight. I forgot about stretching, I doubted that would give me a longer life span.

As my feet hit the pavement, I felt stronger already. Every step I ran gave me a little longer to live- at least that's how I looked at it.