Because I Once Saw the Light

I knew that Leonard had a secret.

That was because I had seen the same medication I was taking in his trash can in his study.

It was a very strong painkiller that was specifically for late-stage cancer patients like me.

Mom had sent me into the study with a bowl of cut fruits the other day, but Leonard hadn't been home. He was at the hospital that day for dialysis.

I set down the fruits, preparing to leave, when I suddenly caught sight of the familiar white bottle in the wastepaper basket.

I picked it up curiously to look at it.

It was a bottle of ibuprofen sustained-release capsules, yet the medication inside was morphine tablets instead.

I had used the same trick before, swapping out regularly-seen pills for life-saving medication, just so that I could fool myself and others into thinking I was fine.

As it turned out, my new stepdad, whom Mom had put on a pedestal and whom Tamara had called a cold-blooded monster, was going through his own hellish torture as well.

I put the bottle back where I found it and pretended that nothing had happened.

That night, Leonard finally came back home.

His complexion looked a lot worse than usual, and his steps were unusually floaty and unsteady.

Mom went up to greet him, wanting to help him up, but he avoided her and said in a painful voice, "Don't touch me."

Mom's hand froze mid-air, and her eyes rimmed red.

"Did I do something wrong, Leonard?" she asked.

"I'm just tired," he said, walking up the stairs without sparing her another glance.

He paused slightly when he walked past me.

At that very moment, I could smell the strong odor of disinfectant on him, along with a metallic tang. That was the smell of dialysis.

Sometime later that night, I woke up in pain. The tumor in my brain was pressing painfully against my nerves. It hurt so badly that I broke out in cold sweat and pulled myself into a fetal position, shivering hard under my blankets.

I thought of getting something to drink and got up, carelessly making my way downstairs to the kitchen.

The lights in the living room weren't turned on. However, I caught sight of a dark figure sitting on the couch in the darkness.

It was Leonard. He sat on the couch without moving a muscle.

He was holding a cigarette between his fingers, the faint glow flickering in the dark.

I didn't dare to make a sound and thought of retreating as quietly as possible.

"Since you're already up, you might as well come over."

I suddenly heard him speaking to me in the dark, sounding hoarse and exhausted.

I had no choice but to walk up to him.

"Hi, Leo," I said, greeting him.

"Do you play chess?" he asked.

"A little."

"Have a game with me."

I sat down opposite him.

I saw his ashen face by the moonlight, and his forehead was also covered in sweat. He was enduring his pain just like me.

We ended up playing three games of chess.

Nobody spoke. Only the sound of the chess pieces moving and sliding across the board could be heard.

He played aggressively against me like he was trying to vent out some of his frustrations. Meanwhile, I played steadily, making every move deliberate.

"Are you afraid of losing?" he suddenly asked.

"I can't afford to lose," I said, placing down my chess piece.

He chuckled lightly.

"Life is like a game of chess, and it eventually ends in death. No matter how much you fight back, you'll still lose in the end."

I didn't retort.

The last game ended as dawn approached. I was prepared to pack up the pieces and return to my room when he suddenly held the chessboard down and looked up at me, staring deeply into my eyes with his dark ones.

"Tiana Browning," he said. "How much longer are you planning to keep the diagnosis report hidden under your pillow a secret?"