Her bones were like a bird’s, due to the exposure to her brother. Lexi stayed mostly in her and Alex’s apartment, knitting and crocheting, watching TV and reading. She was taking some online classes from the University, in an attempt to get a liberal arts degree. She also cleaned the apartment. She had trouble going up the stairs and coming down them, so she didn’t often go upstairs to her brother’s bedroom. She had a bedroom on the first floor.
She decided to clean Alex’s bedroom, to vacuum the rug and wash the floor. She washed the floor the old fashioned way, on her hands and knees with a scrub brush, because she couldn’t lug the bucket with mop up the stairs. She knew that upstairs had pocks from exposure to Alex’s disease, but she washed it anyway.
She felt hungry, and decided to go downstairs. A lilting melody was coming from the satellite radio downstairs. She carefully set one foot on the steps and started down.
n’She slipped, falling down the last ten steps, landing hard on her ribs. Something broke. She felt and heard it, even while she screamed. She tried to move her arms, but her left arm that she landed on didn’t want to move. She couldn’t breathe. Gasping, she tried to get her legs to move, but they wouldn’t move, either, twisted as they already were. She tried to move her arm, to drag herself forward, toward the kitchen, the phone, to anything to ask for help. She gasped and could only see red. Her vision got smaller and tighter, a pinpoint. “Alex,” she gasped. “Alex!”
Alex was smiling as he walked into the apartment. The radio was playing a sonata in the darkened room. “Lexi?” he called. “Lexi, where are you?” He flipped on the kitchen lights and looked around the kitchen. “Lexi?” He flipped on other lights, heading toward his bedroom, when he tripped over something. Catching himself, he straightened and looked down.
“Oh, my God, Lexi!”
Lexi lay there, her arm outstretched toward the door, her head on her arm, laying there, resting…sleeping. “Lexi…” Tears formed in his eyes, as his body knew what had happened, but his mind hadn’t caught up. “Lexi, hon, get up now.”
She didn’t move. Still in his hero outfit, he gently lifted her head from her arm and held it. Her eyes were closed. “Lexi? Lexi, I’ll make dinner. We’ll go out. Please wake up.” The last came out as a sob. “Please.”
He gathered her cold and stiff body into his arms as he rocked back and forth and cried.
He didn’t know how long he sat there. He didn’t know what made him finally get up, dry his diseased tears that were already putting holes in his uniform. His tunic was now in tatters, from sweat and tears. He picked up his phone, and before it entirely melted in his hand, he called 911.
It was too late for that, he knew. He waited in the kitchen, his disease warping the kitchen chairs.
((What Would Your Character Do exercise #20, “High Drama”))