My nice contracted Dengue fever some months back and she wrote the following essay.
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This is an experience that has taught me the value of the life I have.
The heavy mist hung low, haunting the lives of children- it may spare one’s life, for others? Blinds. Like a phantom it travels, through the villages with nothing to give, only to take - to take the face of death.
For those who’s lives were lost in this maze, I wish to rest at peace. What a fight to be fought in this maze- what a battle it is to win, spreading through your veins until your blood is nothing more.
Like a lifeless body I lay on the white hospital bed, as fear seizes the throats of family. The count drops, counting down to 0. Flesh thins, a figure so slender, a figure so frail- too frail to walk without the need to faint. Useless, almost, did I look in that hospital bed, as did every one of those patients on my floor, who had also been devoured by the wraith.
Doubt churns in the stomachs of my loved ones, clouds gathering above their aching heads. The sky darkens, and smiles are long gone, perhaps never to be seen again. They assure with a convincing wince, as the storm continues within. A religous chance is taken to light the great sky again, and does it? It does.
A feeling like a weight off my weary mind it is to hear the words from the doctor. The weight of a world, the weight of a worry. A blessed life to live, to have abated such a burden.
