?
Degenerative, Mariam had told her. Degenerative. Adalia knew its meaning, its consequences and its ultimate inevitable conclusion. One word capable of shattering everything with its destructive manic one-way path.
Words had flooded Adalia’s mind that day, at their favourite table, in their favourite coffee shop. Amongst others, ‘Unfortunate’, had come to mind. Though for a good couple minutes after Mariam had told her, it seemed as if her mind never wanted to function ever again. Adalia would have preferred to stay in that vegetative state, protected from the darkness in the world, for forever and always.
?
Mariam, however, had seemingly expected these stages of processing the given information. Most likely because she had already gone through this process when this despair-coated information had been briskly shoved into her life a few days prior.

A few days prior… To know that Mariam had carried this ten-ton burden for days, alone, made Adalia sick to her stomach. As Mariam’s forever-patient blue-grey eyes had rested upon Adalia that afternoon, at their favourite table, in their favourite coffee shop, Adalia envied the people who knew nothing of Despair. People who complained about their annoying step-parents or the fact that they had been grounded again for sneaking out late; these people knew nothing of the shadows in the world. Those born from the darkness knew from the very beginning. Due to the relentless reoccurring unfortunate events that they are forced to call their life, they bear so many scars carved deep into their souls.
We, Adalia thought to herself, are the people who know the meaning of Despair.
?
“Degenerative…Do you know what that means, sweetheart?” Mariam had asked her. Adalia’s soul cracked and shattered inside. Her eyes became mirrors. “Yes, Grandma, it means that you hold my hand, and you never, ever let go”. Adalia had grasped her grandmother Mariam’s cold, wrinkled, forever-gentle hands that afternoon, vowing to never let go of the good in this world.