KatarinaBook

DETERIORATINGCONDITION

Igagonacloudofwhitesmokethemanbesidemehasgenerouslypuffedintomyface.I
blinkthroughthehaze,seehisamusedsmile,butIdontcommentonhisinsolenceorsmackhis
hideousface.Thatsexactlywhathewantsmetodo.Instead,Istandandsearchthecramped
roomforKen,leavingthestillcoldbeeratthecounter.Kensomehowkeepsslippingbottlesinto
myclammyhandseventhoughheshouldknowImnotsupposedtobedrinkingalcoholalong
withmymedicine.AndIdidntevenwanttocelebratemybirthday;thatwasallhisidea,not
mine.Noonereallycaresaboutthatonceyoupasstwentyone,andIdontliketothinkabout
growingolderwhentherestofmyfamilywontevercelebrateanotherbirthday,mineortheirs.
IspotKensblurryformonthedancefloorhispoufy,blondhairandscrawnyposture
amongstathrongoftotteringwomenwholaughandswathisarms.Ifrown,butImnotreally
surprised.Hesbeenanassallevening.Actually,hesjustanass,period.Hesnotmyboyfriend;
hesnotevenafriend,really.Heonlysticksaroundbecauseofsomepromisehemadetomy
sisterwhenshefoundoutshehadHuntingtons.
Ispinawayfromthesloppydancersandshovethroughaclutteroffatmenblockingthe
doorway,theircuriouseyesskimmingovermythinbody.Ifinallystumbleontothesidewalk
outsidethebarandquicklywalkfarfromtheblazingneonsignandeveryannoyingmanin
thatplace.

Book/DeterioratingCondition/2
Inoticetoomanysectionsofasphaltandblocksofconcreteareobscuredbyshadows,the
lightsabovehavingburnedoutorbeenshattered.ButIdontthinkaboutwhythatis.Ijustkeep
walkingandlookupratherthandownatthegroundwherehiddenmonsterscouldreachoutand
gropemyskin.
Fuzzyformsofbuildingsbillowfromtheground.Adimorangehazefallsbehindthem,
remindingmeofthatmovieIsawlastweekwhereUFOsdescendedtowardsEarthandlit
everythingonfire.Exceptthisisntamovie.Andthatsnotactualfire.
Iglanceattheothersideofthestreetwheretheskyisntorangebutaverydarkblue,
almostblack.Inoticethetallestbuilding,itsdarkoutlinejuttingabovethelineofshorter
businessesaroundit.IgaspwhenIrealizewhatitisahospital.Ifreezeandgapeatitsmassive
structure.Myhandsareinstantlymoist.Thehaironmyforeheadandneckstartstoclump
togetherandclingtomyskin.Tearssmoldermyeyes.
Inoticethenthenursesthatstandoutfront,holdingsyringesandwavingtheirflabby
armsatme.Theydontadvancetowardmeormovefromtheirpositions.Theyjustwave.Other
shadowsstandagainstthebuildingbehindthenurses,theirfaceshiddenfromme.Thesemustbe
thedoctors.
Ahandgraspsmyshoulder,andIscream.Theotherhandcrawlsaroundmyfaceand
lodgesthenoiseinmythroat.Itrytobitethefingersthatdigintomylips,buttheotherhand
crushesmyshoulderandwhipsmearound.Isqueezemyeyesintoslitsratherthanfacingthe
doctorornurseormurderer.Itrytorememberwhatmyfathertaughtmetodointhese
situations:kneemyattackersgroin,jabmypalmintohisorhernose,scream,bite
Whatthehell,Amy.

Book/DeterioratingCondition/3
IstopandpeekthroughmystubblylashesatKenashishandslowlyfallsfrommyface.
Ishouldbegratefulitshimandnotsomeoneelse,butImafraidhellbeangrywithme.His
faceismostlycoveredinshadowslikeeverythingelsearoundhere,makingitimpossibletosee
ifheisangryornot.
Cantyoujustbenormalforoneday?
Theresahospital
Kenseyeswiden.Hequicklyturnstoscanthesurroundingbuildings,thedimglowfrom
thestreetlightsspreadingacrosshisslimfaceasheturns.Afrownpinchestheskinabovehis
eyebrowsashisfacefallsbackintoshadows.Where?
Iglanceovermyshoulderandeyethenursesthatstillstandinfrontofthebuilding,their
armscontinuingtheirmenacingwaves.Thefourdoctorsstanderectbehindthem,theirstraight
bodiesformingalineinfrontofthehospital.
Areyoutalkingaboutthecourthouse?hesays.
Isquintandstareattheirblackforms.Thedoctorsareactuallytootalltobehuman.
Theyrepolesorpillarsorevencolumns.Thenurseswhoaretoothininplacesandextremely
largeelsewherearejustloweredflagsswayinginthewind.Icanimagineoneoftheflags
havingalternatingstripesandapatchofstarsinitscornerthatdistortsasitsnapsbackandforth.
Thebuildingnolongerlookslikeahospitaleither,itsformtoosquareanduniform.Icantsee
anydetails,becauseofdarknessandexcessiveshadowsbutalsobecauseofthebeerKenforced
metodrink,butIcanvisualizeitspolishedmarbleexteriorandsomegrandstepsleadingupto
thedoorlikealargeserratedtongue.
IturnbacktoKen,embarrassed.

Book/DeterioratingCondition/4
Letsgetyouhome,hesays,ahintofalarmtouchinghisvoice.
Iknowthatvoice;Ivehearditmanytimesbefore.HethinksImgoingtohaveanother
episodeandstartseeingthingsagain.HellescortmestraighttoDr.Evilwhowillforcemeto
swallowmoreSeroquel,thosewickedtabletsthatmakemedizzyandfat.Hellupmydosageof
Prozac,too.Iknowhewill.
Kenwonttakemehome.Hewonttakemehome.
Letsgo,Kensaysashisquickhandsnatchesmywrist.
Itwistmyhandtowardshisthumbandescapehisgrip.
Amy.Ineedtotakeyouhome.
No,youwont,IsayasItakeafewstepsawayfromhim.Itrytokeepmyvoicelevel.
YoulltakemetoDr.Burton.
Herubshislefttempleandstringshishandoverhalfhisface,hiseyesbrieflypeeringat
methroughtheweboffingersbeforetheyfalloncemoretohisside.Illtakeyoustraighthome.
Promise.NoDr.Burton.
Lies!
Iturnmybackonhim,thebar,andthehospitalno,courthouseandstumbledown
somerandomalley,ignoringKenscursingandthreats.Thealleyiscompletelybarren;noteven
adumpsterorstrayanimalobstructsmypath.Noweirdshapesclingtothewallsorgrowfrom
thepavement.EvenKenstaysaway,hisvoicedisappearingasmyownheartbeatintensifies.
Iemergeattheotherendofthealleyandfollowthesidewalktomyright.Iglanceahead
ofmeandnoticeaslenderwomanlimpinginthesamedirectionIamwalking.Itsmymother.I
knowitsher.Iseeitinthewayshewalks,howherkneeshavetoworkextrahardtodraweach

Book/DeterioratingCondition/5
footforward,andbythewayherhairisbraided,thickblackstrandstwistedandknottedtightly
againstherscalp.Ireachmyclumsyarmstowardher,knowingshellactuallytakemehome,
unlikeKen.Shesneverlikeddoctorseither.ButbeforeIcanevencallouttoher,sheblendsinto
thedarknessandvanishesaltogether,takenbyshadowsattheedgeofastreetlightsoval.Ipause
andwaitforhertoreemerge.Iwaitforhersadsmile.Iwaitforhersoothingwords.Iwait,butI
knowIwontgettoseeheragain.Iknowshesnotactuallyhererightnow,thatmymindisjust
playingtrickswithmeagain.
Iclosemyeyesandpicturemymotherssmile.WhenIlastsawit,shehadaskedfor
extrablankets,claimingtobecold,butIknewsheonlywantedtohidetheworseningpaleness
andherdyinglimbs.Thedoctortoldussheshouldntbeabletofeelanythinganymorenot
pain,notthefever,notcoldsoIknewitwasntthetemperatureshewasworriedabout.She
didntwanttofrightenuswithherdeterioratingcondition,butwewereallterrified.Wewere
terrifiedofherillness.Wewereterrifiedofitsheredity.Wewereterrifiedofwhatlifewouldbe
likeafterherbodyfinallygaveup.
WhenIhandedherthosetwowoolblankets,shesmiledatme.Itwasweak,sotiny,butit
wasthere.Whendadfoundherstiffbodyinthemorning,allIcouldthinkaboutwasthatsad
smileandhowIwasthelastperson,ever,whogottoseeit.
Lowvoices,eithermuffledbydistanceorsecrecy,tricklebetweenbuildingsandspillout
intothestreetinfrontofme.Istepoutintothisunfamiliarstreet,withitsfreshlysealedstench
andnearblackness,andIfeelcompelledtofollowthetrailofvoices.Myfeetstumbleslightly
andjerkforwardasmyheadandtherestofmybodystruggletokeepup.Iclenchmyteethand
curseKenforforcingmetodrinkalcohol.Ionlystopreelingforwardwhenastrongblastof

Book/DeterioratingCondition/6
lightcastsaspotlightonthesideofsomebuildingbeforediminishingintoathinline.Ieyethe
doorthatjustopened,butthevoicesarentcomingfromthatdirection.
Ihearsomethingbehindme,amansvoice,andIturnintimetoseemyfatherscrouched
body,hishandsandkneesdiggingintothesidewalk.Hisheadisdroopedforward,blendinginto
hisarms,andalargeshadowofblackbloodstainsthegroundbeneathhim.Thisman,who
taughtmeeverythingfromKaratetoloadingadishwasher,isunabletomoveorstopthe
bleeding.Inoticetwonursesstandingabovehiminastoreswindow,theirfacesturnedand
avoidingthedyingmanbeforethem.
Ifalltomykneesandpressmypalmsintomyeyes.
Thisisntreal.Thisisntreal.
Iremovemyhandsandleanforwarduntilmyforeheadgrazestheroughasphalt.The
coolgroundmeltsintomyskinandspreadstomyfingertipsandtoes,soothingme.Ifinally
glancebackupatmyfather,buthesnolongerthere.Inhisplacesitsabenchandinthewindow
arethetwomannequins,notnurses,theirplasticbodiescoveredwithdarkapparel.
Myfatherwasneverthere,adeceptionjustlikethathospital,justlikemymother.My
fathersbodywasdrainedoflifenearlytwoyearsago.Hedidntbleedtodeathonsome
sidewalkinthemiddleofnowhere;hebledtodeathinthecabofhistinytruck,abucksantlers
havingpokedholesinhisneckandchest.
Icringeatthememoryandfocussolelyonthequietvoices.Slowly,Iwalkforwarduntil
Iveventuredseveralalleysandstumbleacrossagroupofyoungpeoplehuddledbetweentwo
apartmentbuildings.Anoldermanwithashybrownhairandonlyonearmthathewaves
enthusiasticallyintheairstandsinfrontofthesmallgroupandspeaksofsinanddeath.Ilisten

Book/DeterioratingCondition/7
ashepreachestothedozenorsoteenagerswhoeagerlyrespondtoeverywordhemutters.He
givesanaccountofhisdaysinthearmy,wherehewatchedhisfriendsdieorloselimbs.Isaw
JesusChristinmydyingcomradesfacesandinthemudaroundourtrenches.IsawHiminthe
middleofnomansland.Hewasalwaysthere,protectingme,jumpinginfrontofbullets,
throwinghimselfontopofgrenades.
Istareatthesmallgroupandtheolderman,unsureiftheyrereallythereorifwhatIm
seeingissomethingmybrainsmakingup.ItswhenIseeaslightgirlaboutmyagewithblack
hairlikemymothersemergingfromthesmallgroupandmovingtowardthefrontwherethe
speakerstands,hisarmextendedtowardthesky,thatIknowthisisjustinmyhead.OratleastI
thinkitis.
Theoliveskinnedgirllookslikemysister.Shereachesforwardtoclutchthemansonly
armaslargetearssweepdownherface.ShewhimpersaboutregretandsomethingelseIcant
makesenseofabovetheroarofthesmallcrowd.Theothersreachoutandtouchherasthe
speakergentlysmilesdownonherandbrushesthethicktearsfromhercheeks.
Iturnawayfromthestrangesceneandslipbackbehindoneofthebuildings.Thatgirl,
withherdarkhairandpetitestature,couldnthavebeenmysister.Shewouldneverdoanything
likethat.Shedalwaysbeentoomuchofacowardandwouldneveradmithavingcommittedany
wrong.SheespeciallywasntaChristian.Someonethatconsciouslytakesherownlifecouldnt
possiblyhavethatkindofmindset.
Ihavealwaysknownshewasselfcenteredandcowardly.Itsmyjobashersisterto
thinkthesethings,butitwasntuntilsheslitherownwriststhreemonthsagothatIrealizedjust
howselfishshereallywas.Kenthoughtthenoteshetapedtothebathroomdoor,warningmeto

Book/DeterioratingCondition/8
steerclearandjusttocallthecopsorwhoeveritisthatcomestoremovebodies,washermost
selflessact.ButIknowbetter.Shemayhavethoughtshewasprotectingmebyleavingthatnote
tellingmetonotunderanycircumstanceopenthedoorandhowsorryshewasandthatshe
couldntgothroughthetreatmentanddielikeMomhadbutreallyshewasonlythinkingof
herself.Shedidntthinkabouttheeffectitwouldhaveonmeoranyoneelse.Shedidntcare
aboutmymentalstate,abouthowthediseasewasnotonlyaffectingherbutmeaswell.DidI
killmyselfwhentheydiscoveredthedefectivegeneinmyDNA?DidIshutmyselfinmyroom
andcontemplatehowtoendmylife?Okay,maybeonce,butIwouldneveractuallykillmyself.
Imnotthatselfish.
#
Asharpwaftoffreshtarfillsmynose,andthejaggedsurfacebeneathmecarvesintomy
tailbone.IglanceupandrealizeImcrouchedinthemiddleofastreet.Itsthesamewidestrip
ofblacktopandrowsofstoreswiththosetwomannequinsperchedinthewindow.Oratleast
theylooklikethesameones.Imnotreallysure.AndImnotsurehowIgothereeither,which
isterrifying.Imightenvisionthingssometimesthatarentreallythereandhaveblurrymoments
inmypsyche,butInevercompletelyloseit.
HowthehelldidIgethere?
Idrawmykneestomychestandwedgemyfacebetweenthem.Isqueezemyknees
againstmytemples,pressingashardasIpossiblycan,butIcantrememberhowIgothere.
IshouldnthaveleftthebarorbeensostubbornwithKen.Hemighthaveactuallytaken
mehomeifIgavehimthechanceto.HeknowshowterrifiedIamofdoctorsandnursesand
hospitals.Heknowstheykilledmymotherandmysister,too.Theyhaveacurebutwontshare

Book/DeterioratingCondition/9
it.Theycouldsaveme,too,buttheywont.Andmyfathersdeathistheirfaultaswell.They
didntgettohimintimetostopthebleeding.Eveniftheyhadarrivedearlyenoughtoclog
thewoundsandpreventhisbodyfromdraining,theywouldhavelethimdie.Hewasan
organdonor.
Lightsuddenlypokesthroughmyeyelids,paintingthedarknessinfrontofmyeyes
maroonandorange.Iimmediatelyopenmyeyesandstareatthediscsofwhiteastheygrowin
sizeandbecomebrighterandbrighter.Ifinallyunderstandwhattheyare,thatacarsheadlights
arewhirringtowardme,butImstuckhereinthemiddleofitspath,thebeamsoflightfixating
meinplace.IcantstandeventhoughImbeggingmyarmstounclasp.IknowIwontmovein
time.Iknowthemetalframewillcrushmebeneathitstires.IknowImgoingtodie.
Ipinchmyeyesshutandshieldmyhead.
#
Anintense,whitelightconsumesmeasIopenmyeyes.Isquintupatawhitecanvasand
onlymovemyheadwhenthethrobbingbehindmyeyesrecedes.Everythingswhite.
AmIdead?
Asilhouettesuddenlyleapsintomylineofview,startlingme,andImforcedtoshutmy
eyesoncemorebecauseofthesuddendizzinesstheblurtriggers.Idrawmyhandstomyhead,
andaraspymoanbubblesinmythroat.
Shesawake,someonesays.Telltheboyfriend.
Isensethesilhouettehasleft,andIfrownatitsabsence.IwanttotellherthatIdont
haveaboyfriend,onlyapromiseofaprotector.Shemustbemistakingmeforsomeoneelse.

Book/DeterioratingCondition/10
Somethingwarmtouchesoneofmyhands,mylefthand,theonethatisstillclenchinga
fistfulofhair.IlookupandfindKenstandingaboveme,hisbodystarklycontrastingthewhite
curtainbehindhim.Hisfaceisacontortionofemotions.Angerstandsoutabovealltheothers,
butitsdifferent.ItsnottheangerInormallyseethere.Hesnotglaringatmeorscoldingme;
hemaynotevenbemadatmethistime.Maybehesannoyedbecausethatladycalledhimmy
boyfriend.MaybeImdead,andhesangryhecouldntsaveme.
AmIdead?Isay.
Hiseyebrowsfurrow.What?No.
Ileanmyheadbackagainstthepillowandstareupattheceiling.Iprobablyshouldbe
dead.Irememberthecar,itsbrightspotlightsandsquealingtires.Thesmellofburningrubber
andgas.Thewhooshofwindsnappingmyhairaroundmyface.Theacheasmybackandhead
slammedintothepavement.
Whathappened?Mybonesshouldhavecrumbledbeneaththecarstires.Myblood
shouldhavecreptintothestreetscracks,takingmylifewithit.MaybeIwasreadytofinallyend
allthispainanddisorientation.MaybeIwasreadytoacceptaquickdeathratherthanaslow
deteriorationofmybody.
Imsorry,hesays.Thisisallmyfault.Ishouldnthaveletyougooffonyourown.
Actually,Ishouldnthavetakenyououtatalllastnight.Iknewbetter.Withalcoholandyour
pillsandyourcondition
Istoplisteningthen,suddenlyawarethatImprobablynotathomeoratKensplace
either.Iglancedownatmyself,atthepaleblueandwhitesheetsthatcovermybody.Athintube
jutsfromthepitofmyelbow,andItrackthetrailoftubingovertheedgeofthebed,alongsidea

Book/DeterioratingCondition/11
metalrod,anduptoaplasticbaghangingfromtherod.Thesackisfilledwithaclearliquid
thatsfeedingsomething,probablysomekindofdrug,intomybloodstream.Ifrownatitbecause
InowrealizethatImprobablyinahospital.Thethoughtshouldterrifymeandmaybeitdoes,a
little,butforwhateverreasonImnotseizedwithterror.Imnotevensweating.
Theykilledmyfamily.Ishouldntfeelthiscalm.
Seroquinorwhateveritscalled,IhearKensaying.
Iturnmyfacebacktowardshimandglare.Seroquel?
Yeah,whatever.Obviouslyyouneedtogetbackonthat.Itllhelpwithyourdepression
andstuff.
ThatswhattheProzacisfor.
Thenitwillkeepyoufromtryingtocommitsuicideandhelp
Iwasnttryingtocommitsuicide.
Hesuddenlyreachesformyhandandwindshisthinfingersbetweenmine.Istareatour
intertwinedhandsashisthumbgentlyrubscirclesonthesideofmypointerfinger.Iglanceback
upathisface,confused.
Youmightnotthinkso,butthisillness,itmessesupyourhead.Howmuchoflastnight
doyouremember?
Doesntmatter.IknowImnotsuicidal.
Hishandsqueezesmine.Itsgettingworse.Itllkeepgettingworse.
Istareataflickerofemotiononhisface.Kenneveradmitsthathecares,formeorfor
myillness.Butthenagainhemightnotcare.Thatstupidpromisehangsoverhishead,forcing
himtostayclose.Heonlyfeelsobligatedtotakecareofme.OratleastIthoughtso.Thespark

Book/DeterioratingCondition/12
offearandsadnessinhiseyesmakesmewonder.Doesheactuallycare?Isheactuallysticking
aroundformorethanjustthatstupidvow?
Justpromisemeyouwontkillyourself,hesays.Dontbelikeyoursister.Dontgive
up.Justletmetakecareofyou.
Hemightactuallycare.
SoinsteadofarguingwithhimortryingtoconvincehimthatImnotsuicidal,Isay
Ipromise.