Life

Hillary POV:

Every story has a backstory. Most of them are epic, while some are bad. Just like how the alley leading to my apartment is dark, how my life has been dark and lonely ever since the beginning.

The street's light glitched as I walked toward my apartment, reminding me that my life was a story with a bad backstory. Dogs barked as I walked past different houses along the alley. The waste bin at the front of each home creates a nauseating feeling in my stomach. If I'm to throw up, I will probably throw up nothing because I didn't have breakfast.

As I got to the front of my apartment, I met my landlady seated at the front of my door. When she saw me coming, she stood up and rushed to meet me. "Glad you are back," The petite woman who was my landlady clapped her hands. She always does that whenever I don't pay my rent on time. "You are two months late on your rent, Hillary," she shouted and continued clapping her hands. Her voice echoes down the alley, and everyone must have heard her screaming.

"Mrs. Peters, I..." I tried to say something, but she clapped her hands.

"Duh, Duh, Duh!" she snapped her fingers at me. If she were up to my height, 5 feet 7 inches tall, her fingers would be buried deep in my dark brown eyes.

"If I make excuses when I build this house, it won't stand today." She pointed to the building as if it was her best achievement. The building is a two-story house. I stay on the ground floor while she stays on the first floor.

"Mrs. Peters, I...." I tried to say something, and she snapped her fingers again.

"No excuses, young lady. You have five days. "If you don't pay my rent in five days, I will throw you out," she threatened and walked away with cusses and mutterings.

I rolled my eyes as I mimicked her. "You have five days." She must have heard as she turned to look at me. "Good night, Mrs. Peters," I said as I entered my room before she could start a lengthy conversation.

"When?" I dropped my bag and fell to the ground as tears streamed down my face. Life has been unfair to me, and every time I try to compete with life, it never ends well.

I did not cry because of Mrs. Peters but because my life was not what I expected. My life is far from perfect, from a struggling job to a dying father. I don't have the life I've always wanted.

After crying, I stood up and lay on my couch. It's a two-seater black leather couch that doesn't fit my height, but what could a girl with no bed do? Nothing. I stared at my ceilings, infested with cobwebs and dust, and thought about my not-so-perfect life. Ten seconds later, I fell asleep. I knew I'd have nightmares while sleeping.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"Rise and shine, Hillary!" My alarm blared in my bag. It's a tone I recorded because I love listening to myself talk. "If you don't stand up, Hillary, I will hit you." I groaned and blew off my black braided hair from my forehead and rose from the couch. I stretched and yawned loudly.

"Perfect," I said, getting up from the couch and looking for my bag, where the alarm was blaring. When I found my bag, I turned off the alarm and yawned again. I looked at my phone and groaned when I saw the time. It was 7:00 am, which meant my not-so-perfect life had begun.

I already have a schedule I use every morning. First, I bathe, dress up, and rush out of the house to catch the early morning bus. Second, I alight at the bus stop close to the hospital where my father is admitted, and after checking up on him, I leave for my office.

My father's condition had become worse. Doctor John, the specialist in charge of my father's illness, informed me that morning.

But, " I paused and heaved a deep sigh. "What about another chemo?"

"It won't help. He is at the late stage, and chemotherapy would give him more pain. You have to let him go. "

I bit my lip at the news and fought back the tears threatening to fall. "How long does he have?"

"Three months, Max. I'm sorry, Hills, "he pats me on the back. "Concerning your debts," he paused and looked at me.

I know what he wants to say. It was about my debt to the hospital. I owe them a lot ever since my father started his treatment. "I'll settle the bills, John," I said to him before he could finish what he wanted to say.

"Okay. Stay strong, Hills," he smiled, and I returned the smile, but it changed to a frown.

I stood up and left the office, and when I got outside, a terrible headache hit me, and it felt like my head was getting hit with a hammer. I held my head as another wave of a headache hit me.

"Leave the way!" A husky voice brought me out of my surprising pain. I raised my head and looked at the person. A white man in a wheelchair stared back at me as I continued to look at him. He has unique hazel eyes, which I find attractive. "Are you deaf?" The man shouted, sounding a little bit harsh.

I faked a smile with my patients and made way for him. He wheels himself away without turning to look at me.

"Different people with their problems, "I muttered and headed toward my father's room."

"Dad," I whispered as I entered the room. My father, who used to be full of life, lay lifeless on his bed. His black curly hair was bald, and his face looked like a dead man. It was pale and lethargic. In his mouth was a tube connecting to life support. "I don't know what to do." I grabbed his hand. "I wish I could return when you were fine and always happy."

I stared at my father's face and wished he could open his eyes. Since he was diagnosed with cancer twelve years ago, he has never said a word to me. "Show me you are okay! Move a finger or something! " I shouted and cried out. "Dad!" I didn't want to lose my father, but there was nothing I could do but watch him die.

"Why?" I asked no one in particular.

••••••••••••••••••

Loukas POV

As she entered the VIP ward, my stepmother made her presence known. I was admitted to The White Hospital, where I've spent almost my life battling my paralyzed body.

Amanda, My stepmother, dropped her white Louis Vuitton bag on the white sofa and sat down. She took a piece of brown paper from her purse and threw it on my bed. "Die for all I care, but before you do, sign those papers." She pointed to the brown paper. "My bad!" She gasped and then started laughing. "Only the left side of your body is normal." She mocked.

She was right about that because I was useless.

I watched her as she took the paper and handed it to me. "Are you not going to take it, or is your left side no longer working?" She mocked me again, but I refused to say anything. The annoying blonde woman who called herself my stepmother did not deserve to hear me talk.

"Loukas!" She shouted. "Why are you in this hospital when you don't want to be treated?" She stood up from the sofa and paced around the room. "Let's make this easier for you, Loukas." Why don't you die and let your brother take charge of everything? " She referred to the inheritance owned by me. "Your brother has been in charge of everything since the beginning. Die and let him have everything." She said to me.

"So what if I die?" I paused and then burst into laughter. "If I die, will you finally be at peace?" I scoffed.

"You are in pain, Loukas, so stop wasting your time here and die." She advised and pointed to the brown paper. "If you fall to your death, I'll think of how to create a write-up." She tried to touch me, but I slapped her hand away. "Sign the papers before tomorrow, and by then, make sure you are dead." She whispered and walked out of the room.

I heaved a deep sigh as soon as she left and thought about what she had said. I have already considered dying twice. First, it was when I got into the accident that made my right side paralyzed. I couldn't remember anything when I first woke up, and when the doctor told me I had hemiplegia, I tried to commit suicide. The second time was when I wanted to kill myself by taking poison. Now that Amanda had brought it up again, I thought about dying.

Don't judge me. I have spent fourteen years with no memory of my childhood and a paralyzed body. Every month it's one complication or the other. Since I refused medical attention, I'm either fainting or having speech problems. Life hasn't been easy since I got into an accident that damaged my brain. I refused to leave the hospital, which had become my home since the accident.

What's the point of living if half your body is paralyzed?

The reason why I gave up on treatment was when I tried physiotherapy for three years, but there were no changes in my body. The process was painful and a waste of time as I found out my stepmother hired my therapist. That's the day I gave up on getting better. "Sir," said Rotimi,

my best friend, and bodyguard who had stayed with me my whole life entered the room. "I saw Amanda coming out of your room a while ago. Are you alright?" He questioned

"She dropped this," I said, pointing to the brown paper on the bed beside me. Rotimi took the form and read the content. He looked at me and frowned.

"What the hell is this?" Rotimi questioned.

"I'm considering it, Rotimi," I answered.

"What do you mean?" Rotimi sat down beside me. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, I am going to sign it. Caleb deserves it anyway. " I said my stepbrother's name. "He has been helping me since the beginning."

"But you've been behind the brilliant ideas. You plan the most prominent building in Mecianda and hotels around the world. " Rotimi tried to talk me out of it.

"No one knows me, Rotimi. Allow it to be. I'll sign it. "

"I disagree with this, Lou," Rotimi said.

"As your friend and boss, I command you to agree."

"But this isn't okay. This is bullshit. " He cussed, and I frowned. When he saw my face, he smiled. "Very well then. I hope you know what you are doing. "

"Yes, I do," I replied. "Take yourself out with the boys tonight." You all deserve a night out. "

"You know I can't leave you alone," he refused.

That was one thing I loved about Rotimi.

"Please!" I begged. "You guys have not taken any rest this week. Go and have fun. I'll be fine. "

"Fine," he agreed. "But I will be back before midnight."

"Fine." Midnight was okay because I would have been dead by then.