Open Fields of Grace

Open Fields of Grace
By Chloe Roets

"Run, Mackenzie!" I screamed. "Run!" But my little sister just stood there, knees knocking, frozen in fear. Slowly the creature approached, snarling with fangs bared as it drew nearer and nearer. But Mackenzie didn't move. She gazed at it mournfully, as if accepting the fact that she was about to die. Just before the creature pounced, my dream changed. I was in the hospital, gazing at my dying sister as the machines around her small body beeped and hummed monotonously. Then one of them emitted a strange and blaring beep that kept going on and on and on. I tried to get up, to find a doctor, to find someone who could save my sister, but my legs wouldn't work. I watched in horror as her heart stopped, watching as a single straight line grew longer and longer on the machine...

I sat bolt upright in my bed in a cold sweat. The shadows in the room loomed over me, filling the room with darkness and despair. I threw back the covers and quickly opened up the windows, letting the cool, refreshing mountain air of Washington fill my lungs. It wasn't real, I reassured myself. Mackenzie was alive and would stay that way. But the somewhat-comforting thought didn't shake the terror I felt in the dream, the utter despair I felt as I watched helplessly as the creature known as cystic fibrosis preyed down on my ten-year-old sister. Mackenzie was such a beautiful girl to have such a horrible disease. Such a comfort to me after I lost my twin. And now she was dying.
Would die soon.

And there nothing I could do to stop it.

I heard soft rustling from the other side of the room and soon a tiny arm snaked around my waist. "Analia?" Mackenzie whispered. "What's wrong? Why are you up?"

"Nothing," I lied smoothly. "Go back to sleep. You have a big surgery tomorrow and you need rest."

"I'll have plenty of time to rest after the surgery," she said softly. "What's wrong?"

"It's just so unfair that you have to go through this," I said, fighting to restrain the salty tears I wanted so badly to release.

"Who said life was fair?" she asked gently. "Ana, I didn't ask to be diagnosed with CF. Nobody asks to be treated for this, but it happens. It's life."

"Then it's a very cruel world to take away life from someone who's such a comfort to me," I said, kissing her forehead. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Come on. Let's get you to back to sleep." I led her over to her berth and tucked her in.

"Analia?" she asked.

"Yeah, 'Kenzie?"

"I'm scared," she whispered. I looked into her eyes and could immediately tell that she was telling the truth. The fear radiating from her beautiful blue orbs was so clear that I could almost see it looming over her frail, sickly body.

"Can I tell you a secret?" I asked. She nodded eagerly. I bent down to whisper in her ear, as if afraid the shadows would overhear me.

"I bet the CF is too," I said. "Because tomorrow it's gonna be hypnotized into falling asleep and never wake up. Right here," I poked her between the ribs, emitting a soft giggle from her. "Right here-" I poked her again. "And right here." This time I succeeded in a short burst of laughter.

"Ana, please stop!" she gasped. "I'm going to wake up Mum and Dad!"

"You're right." I reluctantly ceased my playful antics. It was rare to hear her laugh now. Whether Mackenzie admitted it or not, the CF was leaving its mark on her body.

"Sing something," she whispered.

"What should I sing?" She was quiet for a moment.

She brought my head down and murmured the name of the song in my ear. I smiled. We both loved the song and we had even sung it together at school before. I began singing, letting the beautiful and comforting words wash over me like a flood. When I finished, she was sleeping peacefully, the expression of pain that she so often wore replaced by one of peace and gentleness and contentment. I smiled, pulled the covers up to her chin, and silently retreated to my own bed.

As I lay in the blessed coolness of the room, I thought about Anika, my twin that had been so viciously and heartlessly taken away from me.
The accident had left my whole family scarred, both physically and emotionally.

Then Mackenzie had been born.

From the moment my mother brought her home from the hospital, I loved her. In all my nineteen years, I had never loved anyone more than I did her. She had been such a comfort, such a joy to me. When I lost Anika, I thought my life was over. My clone, my identical sibling, the one I had known literally since before birth, was gone. But Mackenzie filled the gaping hole left behind by the accident.

Now I might lose her.

The thought was almost too much to bear, let alone accept. I never let Mackenzie know just how much her CF was affecting me. I had to be brave and courageous for her, be the strong big sister who let nothing deter her from reaching her goal. But I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up this facade for much longer. Eventually I would crack and it would all come spilling out.

I forced the dark and foreboding thoughts from my mind. Now was not the time to be thinking about Anika or Mackenzie, or anybody else for that matter. But I couldn't help remembering the words of the song. They were such a great comfort to me. Someday I would see Mackenzie running. Someday, somewhere, she would free. Free to run, free from sickness, free from everything.

Someday she would be running in the open fields of grace.

Someday our lives would be perfect.

Someday.