Back In Reality
397 Words
Sarah had always moved with quiet precision—books in one hand, pencil tucked behind her ear, thoughts a few paces ahead of the world. But today, she was running.
Not because she was late. Sarah was never late. But because it was 3:17 PM, and Gemma would be home from the clinic, and that meant popcorn, fuzzy socks, and if she was lucky, a smile.
Their neighborhood was quiet, all golden leaves and cracked sidewalks, but the walk between Sarah’s porch and Gemma’s back gate was so familiar she could’ve done it blindfolded. Two houses, one friendship. That’s how it had always been.
Inside the Pool family’s home, the curtains were drawn to block the afternoon glare. Sarah slipped off her shoes and headed upstairs, past the framed photos of hockey trophies, school plays, and two girls in every frame—one always in sneakers, the other in skates.
Gemma’s bedroom door was cracked. Sarah knocked twice, then peeked in. “Permission to enter the lair?”
Gemma was sitting up in bed, hoodie draped around her narrow shoulders, knit cap hiding what was left of her hair. She looked pale, but alert.
“Granted,” Gemma said with a weak grin. “But only if you brought snacks.”
Sarah held up a bag of cheese popcorn. “UGH! You wound me.” She laughed and put her hand to her forehead in classic Sarah fashion.
They fell into their familiar rhythm—quiet jokes, shared snacks, and silent comfort. But outside the safety of that room, Sarah’s world was unraveling. She had late assignments piling up, her grades slipping in everything except math, and AP World History had become a personal nightmare.
Later that evening, while Sarah helped tidy up the room, Gemma’s mom stopped her in the hallway. “Sarah… how has Gemma seemed lately? Mood-wise?”
Sarah paused. “Braver than anyone I know. Tired… but still herself.”
Her voice softened. “The last tests showed some positive signs. Small, but it’s something. We’re trying to stay hopeful.”
Sarah nodded, her heart aching from both relief and guilt. Because while Gemma was slowly fighting to get better, Sarah was slipping—and no one knew. She couldn't bring herself to tell Gemma about the overdue papers, the sleepless nights, or the loneliness creeping in between hospital visits and quiz prep.
- Writer
