Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
She was let go.
Why?
Did she do something wrong? Did they find out she’d all but spelled out how Autumn might wean off her medication? No…no, it couldn’t be that. If they’d found out, someone would have confronted Autumn about it and made her resume her treatment.
My special, beautiful girl. Grow strong.
Autumn looked over her shoulder, but the hallway behind her was empty. Instead of heading down the hall that led to her room, she made a sharp right, bypassing the elevators and pushing the door to the stairwell open. If she was going to get strong, she needed to exercise. And this was one of the only places where no one could see her. She stared over the railing to the floors below. There were three, with two flights of stairs separating each landing. Six flights. She walked slowly down all six flights, and despite her pace, her heart sped, her chest rising and falling as a light sweat broke out on her forehead. Autumn turned, peering up, inhaling deeply. “Mount Everest,” she muttered.
She glanced behind her at the door that led to the lobby and the elevator bank that would take her back up to her floor. She should use it. She’d just descended six flights of stairs, an impossibility just weeks before. It was enough for one day.
Yet she stood there, staring up at that faraway door.
There had been a maintenance man named Joel who’d worked at the hospital when she was seven or eight. He’d retired years before, but she still remembered him. He’d been nice. He’d whistled while he worked, and if Autumn was feeling well enough, she’d chitchat with him while he fixed this or that. One time, there had been some damage to a whole section of penny tile, and he’d started to replace it when she sat down to watch. She’d remarked on the tiny tiles and the large space and that it looked like it would take him a hundred years to finish it. But he’d only smiled and said, “Well, Miss Autumn, how do you eat an elephant?” She’d laughed and wrinkled her nose, no idea how to answer. But Joel had winked and answered for her. “One bite at a time,” he’d said.
She looked up at that door again, putting her hand on the rail and lifting her foot, beginning the climb.
“How do you climb Mount Everest?” she murmured, setting her foot down. One step at a time.
She climbed those six flights of stairs that day, resting on each landing before gearing up for the next. When she took that final step to the top, she nearly wept with victory. She might even have clapped for herself if she’d had the strength to lift her hands. Instead, she shuffled back to her bed and slept for hours. But not the sleep of the sick and the drugged. The rest of one whose muscles ached with growth and whose spirit soared with accomplishment, even while in peaceful slumber.
Autumn tackled those six flights of stairs every day after classes and lunch were over, when she’d normally be resting or reading or, if she felt strong enough, sitting outside in the sun. She pushed herself mercilessly, ever aware of the possibility that her time was dwindling. Down, then up, until she could walk the stairs in both directions without breaking a sweat.
Next, she began jogging. Only down at first, but then she jogged one flight and walked the rest, then two, then three. Over and over and over.
Her muscles burned, her vision blurred, and still, she powered on. There was something utterly addictive about feeling in control of pushing the boundaries of her body. The medication had set the limits of her capabilities. Now it was her. She was giddy with the feeling.
She began doing her stairwell exercises not only in the afternoons but in the mornings as well.
On the eve of the full moon, Autumn jogged down the stairs, turned, and began jogging straight back up. She doubted herself on the fourth flight but kept going anyway. By the time she leaped onto the top landing, tears were stinging her eyes, and sweat was rolling down her back and dotting her forehead as she panted for breath.
The door from the hallway opened suddenly, making her jump and step backward against the railing.
“Autumn?” It was Genie.
Autumn couldn’t even catch her breath enough to greet her.
Genie stepped forward, her surprised expression transforming into concern. She took her in, clearly seeing her jackhammering pulse, bright red and sweaty face, and her staggering breath. “Autumn. Oh dear, you shouldn’t try walking up the stairs. What are you thinking?” She took her arm. She’d assumed Autumn had just climbed the two flights from the floor below, even if incredibly slowly. The truth was she would have looked just like this weeks before after what was now an easy task. “Take the elevator. None of you are in any condition to climb stairs. Come with me. I’ll help you back to bed.”