My Laziness Was Organ Failure

I needed twenty hours of sleep a day just to stay alive. When the Fairchilds finally tracked me down and brought me back into their high-society world, they decided I was simply irredeemably lazy. I fell asleep at the dinner table. I fell asleep while being lectured on proper etiquette. I even drifted off, head resting against the damask tablecloth, during the lavish welcome banquet they threw to introduce their lost daughter to the world. My mother trembled with fury that night. "How could I have given birth to something so utterly useless?" My brother, Simon, dumped a glass of ice water directly over my face. "Wake up. Stop hiding behind your pathetic act every time you don't want to follow the rules." And Alyssa—the girl they had adopted to take my place eighteen years ago—stood just behind him, her voice dripping with soft, practiced innocence. "Does Maren hate it here? Was she like this back in the countryside, too?" Everyone rallied around Alyssa, aching over how my coldness must have hurt her fragile heart. None of them knew that when I was six, a raging fever was left untreated for days, leaving behind permanent, irreversible neurological damage. My body had learned to survive only by shutting down, sinking into prolonged comas of sleep just to conserve the barest minimum of energy. My specialist had warned me: I was already in the early stages of multiple organ failure. Forcing me awake wasn't discipline—it was slowly killing me. Yet on the eve of Alyssa’s debutante ball, Mother insisted that I stay awake through the night to watch her try on gown after gown. Sitting on the silk settee, my heavy eyelids finally slipped shut. Alyssa immediately tripped over her hem, hitting the polished hardwood with a theatrical cry, claiming I had deliberately stuck my foot out. Simon grabbed a fistful of my hair, wrenching my head back until my neck screamed. "You close your eyes one more time, Maren, and I’ll make sure you never open them again." I forced my eyes open, looking into their flushed, disgusted faces. When I spoke, my voice was nothing more than an exhale. "Don't bother," I whispered. "I'm almost there anyway. If you keep yelling, you might actually be on time to hear my last breath." … "Who the hell do you think you're cursing!" Mother slammed a bone-china teacup onto the floor at my feet. Porcelain shattered violently, and a jagged shard sliced across my bare calf. I looked down with dull, delayed eyes, watching the thin line of red appear. The blood welled up agonizingly slow. My doctor had told me my heart was barely pumping enough pressure to keep my extremities alive. Alyssa gasped, shrinking into Simon’s arms like a startled fawn. "Simon, please... I’m sure Maren didn't mean to jinx my big night. She’s just tired. Some people get terribly moody when they're woken up." Simon scoffed, letting go of my hair with enough force to snap my head forward. "Moody? She sleeps twenty hours a goddamn day. Where does she find the energy to be moody? She’s just rotten to the core. A lazy, ungrateful parasite." The throbbing at my scalp burned, but my arms felt like lead weights; I couldn't even summon the strength to lift a hand and rub the pain away. My eyelids dragged downward again. "Think whatever you want," I murmured, the words slurring against my teeth. "I really need to sleep." Mother stormed forward, her manicured fingers digging viciously into my upper arm, shaking me until my teeth rattled. "Sleep, sleep, sleep! Is that the only thing you know how to do? When we brought you back, I actually prayed you’d learn some manners so you wouldn't humiliate this family. Now I see you don't even possess a fraction of Alyssa's grace!" I strained to keep my eyes open, trying to find her features through the gray fog creeping into my vision. "Mother... my head... everything is spinning." "Stop playing the victim!" Her grip tightened, her nails biting into my skin. "You are going to sit right here and watch Alyssa. You’re going to watch how a real young woman carries herself." Alyssa stepped forward, gently laying a hand on Mother’s forearm. "Mom, let it go. Maren grew up running wild in the dirt. She isn't used to this kind of refinement." The sweeter Alyssa sounded, the darker Mother’s face became. "Let it go? Why should I?" Mother hissed. "She carries Fairchild blood. She will bend to Fairchild standards." Simon folded his arms, his lip curling. "Mom's right. She's just daring us to break her. Someone bring up a bucket of ice water from the wet bar. Every time she shuts her eyes, douse her." A maid hurried in a minute later, setting down a steel basin filled with floating cubes of ice. The freezing mist seemed to hang over the rim. Looking at the cloudy cubes, my chest seized with an instinctive, suffocating terror. My doctor had laid down one cardinal rule: "Never let yourself freeze." My autonomic nervous system was so degraded it could no longer regulate core body temperature. Hypothermia wouldn't just make me cold—it would trigger cascading organ collapse. "Simon," I rasped, my throat raw. "I can't... I can't touch ice water." Simon let out a harsh bark of laughter. "What, grown up in the gutters and suddenly you have the delicate sensibilities of a princess? Alyssa shot a movie scene in a frozen lake last winter and didn't utter a single complaint. Who are you trying to fool?" Alyssa shielded her mouth, a faint, condescending smile playing on her lips. "Don't be so hard on her, Simon. Maybe Maren really does have poor circulation. Maybe... just put in fewer ice cubes?" On the surface, she was pleading for mercy. In reality, she had just driven the final nail into my coffin, confirming to everyone that my agony was merely dramatic performance. Mother sneered. "Fewer ice cubes? Absolutely not. Let her freeze until her head clears." Two servants shoved me down into an unyielding, high-backed wooden dining chair beside the sofa. Alyssa began her private fashion show. She twirled before the gilded mirrors, lingering for ten, fifteen minutes with every gown, asking Mother if the silk draped properly, asking Simon if the neckline was modest enough. The minutes stretched into an eternity. My vision dimmed, contracting into a dark, pulsing tunnel. My brain was starving for oxygen. A high-pitched screeching started in my ears—the desperate, final warning my nervous system sounded before shutting down completely. My chin slowly sank toward my chest. The moment it brushed my collarbone— "Splash." The glacial water hit my face like a sheet of broken glass. It soaked through my thin cotton shirt, plastering the freezing fabric against my ribs. A violent spasm racked my entire body. My heart contracted with such vicious, tearing agony that my breath caught in a strangled gasp. Simon stood over me, the empty basin hanging from his fingers. "Awake now? Nod off again, and the next bucket will be boiling water." I shivered uncontrollably, my jaw clattering so hard my teeth ached. I couldn't form a single syllable. Alyssa glided out from behind the dressing screen in a cascade of blush tulle, her hands flying to her cheeks in exaggerated shock. "Oh heavens, Maren! Look at you, you're drenched!" Mother watched me with detached disgust. "Let her sit in it. Let’s see if she still finds it so easy to sleep." Through my shivering, purpling lips, I managed to lift my chin. In my blur of vision, their three figures seemed to bleed together into a single, monstrous silhouette. "If I actually die," I whispered, my voice trembling with the cold, "will any of you... care?" Simon slammed the basin onto the parquet floor with a resounding clang. "Stop using death as an emotional hostage. It's pathetic." I didn't have the breath to fight back. My limbs were locked in rhythmic, violent tremors. Alyssa gathered her skirts and stepped closer, leaning in with a look of wounded tenderness. "Maren, why do you always have to provoke Simon? Would it kill you to just keep your eyes open and tell me I look pretty? Is that so hard?" I lifted my heavy eyelids, staring into her flawless, porcelain face. "Yes," I breathed. "Because you're hideous." Alyssa’s face drained of color. "Maren... why do you hate me so much? I know you resent me for living the life that should have been yours for eighteen years. But that was our parents' doing. What could I have done?" She began to weep, tears spilling down her cheeks like fragile pearls, her body swaying as if she might collapse under the cruelty of my words. Simon stepped in instantly, catching her by the waist before whirling on me, his eyes bloodshot with rage. "Maren, you are begging for a beating!" He raised his hand. "Crack." The blow snapped my head to the side. My ear erupted into a deafening, hollow ringing. Darkness rushed into my eyes. But I didn't flinch. I didn't even cry out. Compared to the deep, gnawing rot tearing through my internal organs, a slap to the face felt like nothing at all. Mother was trembling with rage. "Vicious, spiteful creature! Take her down to the cellar! Lock her up!" Two household guards stepped forward, hoisting me by my armpits and dragging my limp legs across the marble hallway, down the flight of concrete stairs. "Clang." The heavy iron door swung shut, and the deadbolt slid into place. The cellar was pitch-black, damp, and smelled of earth and rotting timber. I curled onto my side on the cold cement floor, tucking my freezing knees against my chest, wrapping my trembling arms around myself. So cold. God, it was so cold. My doctor’s voice echoed in the dark chambers of my mind: "Your body is like a drafty, crumbling house held together by toothpicks, Maren. Sleep is your only way to reinforce the beams. If you force the system to run on empty, the whole structure will collapse." I could feel it now. The foundation was giving way. I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the heavy, welcoming abyss. I didn't know how many hours passed before a blinding flashlight beam pinned me against the concrete. I flinched, shrinking back into the shadows. "Get up! Stop pretending!" It was Simon. He caught me by the collar of my wet shirt, hauling me upright with brutal force. "Today is Grandmother’s seventieth birthday gala. The entire board and every relative we have will be there. Even if you have to crawl, you're going to stand by the door and greet the guests." I fell to my hands and knees, my chest heaving as I dragged in shallow, desperate mouthfuls of damp air. "I can't... I need to sleep..." Simon kicked my shoulder, sending me sprawling. "Alyssa stayed up for three nights straight putting together Grandmother’s commemorative album! And all you do is sleep! You make me sick." He dragged me out like an animal. A maid threw a stiff, ill-fitting formal dress over my shivering frame. No makeup. No brushed hair. I looked like a ghost dragged from a ditch, shoved onto the perimeter of the grand ballroom entrance. Alyssa stood beside Mother near the center archway, wearing an off-the-shoulder couture gown, clutching Mother's arm. The arriving relatives swarmed around her, singing praises. "Alyssa grows more stunning every year. Such an aristocratic presence." "Indeed. Nothing like that stray they brought back from the hills—slouching in the corner like she doesn't belong in polite company." They didn't even bother lowering their voices. I leaned heavily against the wooden doorframe, my vision fading in and out. The sounds of the string quartet and the clinking champagne flutes sounded muffled, as if they were playing underwater. Through the haze, I saw Alyssa gliding toward me, carrying an exquisite velvet jewelry box. "Maren," she said sweetly, holding it out. "This is the antique emerald bracelet I bought for Grandmother. Could you hold it for a second? I need to touch up my lipstick." She thrust the heavy box into my hands. My fingers had no sensation left. I had no strength to grip the velvet. My numb fingers parted. "Smack." The box hit the marble floor, popping open upon impact. A fractured, luminous curve of deep green jade-emerald rolled out, snapped clean in two. The entire foyer fell dead silent. Alyssa shrieked, dropping to her knees beside the broken jewelry, sobbing as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. "Maren! Why would you drop it? I spent ten years of savings bidding on that at Sotheby’s for Grandmother!" I stared at the broken stone, my ears buzzing violently. "I couldn't... hold it." Simon lunged forward, his hand clamping around my throat like a vice, lifting me onto my tiptoes. "You dare make excuses!" My head was forced back, meeting his eyes—eyes burning with pure, unadulterated hatred. "You couldn't hold a box? Do you think we're all idiots, Maren?" The lack of oxygen painted black spots across my eyes. I clawed at his wrist with weak, useless fingers, gasping for air that wouldn't enter my collapsed airways. "Let... go..." Mother walked over, making no move to stop him. Looking at the ruined heirloom on the floor, her eyes filled with tears of fury. "Do you have any idea what that stone was worth? Do you know how many private auctions Alyssa attended to find that specific cut?" The surrounding relatives began muttering. "Vindictive girl." "Raised by commoners, what do you expect? Rotten through and through." Listening to the vicious venom spilling around me, a bizarre calm settled over my chest. No sorrow. No anger. Just an overwhelming, bone-deep exhaustion. Alyssa tugged at Simon's sleeve, sobbing hysterically. "Simon, let her go... please. Maybe she was just so tired her hand slipped..." Her performative grace was gasoline on his fury. "Alyssa, your heart is too soft for this world!" Simon roared. "She needs to learn a lesson she will never forget!" With his free hand, he reached into a silver champagne bucket on a nearby serving cart, scooped up a handful of crushed ice, and shoved it straight down the back of my collar. The brutal, stabbing frost seized my spine instantly. A raw, ragged scream tore from my throat. My heart gave a violent, sickening flutter, then dropped into an agonizing spasm. The pain was so sharp, so absolute, that my legs dissolved beneath me. I collapsed onto the hard floor, my limbs twitching in uncontrollable convulsions. "Get up! Don't you dare play dead on me!" Simon barked, nudging my side with his leather dress shoe. I couldn't rise. The chandelier above began to spin wildly. A sudden, metallic copper taste flooded the back of my mouth. I coughed. A thick splat of dark crimson blood erupted from my lips, pooling against the white Italian marble. The room froze. Simon went entirely rigid, his shoe hovering in the air, his face pale as he stared at the pool of red. For a split second, something flickered behind his eyes. Then his jaw clenched again, hardening back into stone. "You're really going all out, aren't you, Maren? Biting your own tongue just to manufacture sympathy? You think spitting up a little blood erases what you did to Grandmother’s gift?" I lay there against the freezing tile, my cheek pressed into the cold, staring at the dark blood. I hadn't bitten my tongue. It was internal hemorrhaging. My organs were beginning to tear themselves apart. I was at the end. With trembling, spastic fingers, I reached desperately into the pocket of my formal dress. There was supposed to be a small plastic vial there—the targeted cardiac stabilizers my rural physician had begged black-market importers to secure for me. Just one pill. If I could swallow just one, my heart might keep beating for a few more hours. My fingers touched empty fabric. I froze. Where was it? Where was my medicine? Suddenly, Alyssa produced a small white pill bottle from her beaded clutch. "Maren, are you looking for this?" I snapped my head up, my eyes locking onto the bottle in her manicured hand. "Give... give it to me..." I reached out, my voice a broken whistle. Alyssa pulled her hand back, stepping behind Mother. "Maren, I went into your room yesterday to drop off your laundry and saw you taking these in secret. I looked them up online—they’re ultra-high-potency sedatives! Don't you know taking pills like that can stop your heart?" She handed the bottle to Mother with wide, horrified eyes. "Mom, look! This is why she’s so lethargic all the time. She’s drugging herself!" Mother grabbed the bottle. Without reading the clinical label, she twisted off the safety cap. "I wondered why you were like a walking corpse every hour of the day," Mother snarled. "You're a junkie!" She walked over to the indoor ornamental koi pond running alongside the grand staircase. Right before my dying eyes, she tipped the bottle upside down. A cascade of pale blue tablets tumbled into the water. They floated for a terrible, fragile second, then absorbed the water, disintegrating into powdery clouds as the orange fish darted toward them, scattering the medicine into nothingness. I watched them dissolve. And something deep inside my chest went out, like a candle smothered under glass. "That was... my life," I whispered into the floor. Simon stepped forward, planting the heavy sole of his shoe directly onto the back of my outstretched hand, grinding my knuckles into the stone. "You still have the nerve to ask for your drugs?" he spat. "Unless you come up with the two hundred thousand dollars to replace that bracelet, you aren't spending another night under this roof." I looked up through the sweat and blood plastered to my eyelashes, and suddenly, a wet, terrible smile touched my lips. "Fine," I breathed. "You'd better... order the casket." Simon’s weight pressed down harder on my broken hand. "You're laughing at me?" Mother pointed furiously toward the terrace french doors. "Today is your grandmother's celebration! Don't you dare bring your disgusting curse into this hall! Get her out into the garden! She stays there until the party is over. No food, no coat, and absolutely no sleep!" Two security guards seized me by the shoulders and hauled me across the polished floor, shoving me out onto the stone patio before slamming the heavy glass doors behind me. The lock clicked. The sound of laughter, clinking crystal, and warm, scented air was instantly cut off. It was a late November night. The wind off the coast cut through my soaked, cheap polyester dress like razor blades. I slid down the trunk of a bare magnolia tree, my knees giving out until I sat crumpled on the freezing turf. My medicine was gone. I could feel my life slipping out of me, stroke by stroke. With every shallow breath, it felt as though broken glass was being dragged through my pleural cavity. Massive blind spots consumed my vision. I closed my eyes, wanting nothing more than to slip away right there. "My, my. Sitting on the dirt like a stray dog?" A soft, mocking voice drifted down from above. I forced my chin up. Alyssa was standing on the lawn, a cashmere wrap draped over her shoulders, holding a steaming mug of black tea. She looked down at me with an exquisite, victorious smile. "You looked so pathetic spitting blood in there, Maren," she purred. "Did you really think a little theatrics would make them love you? In this house, I am the only daughter. I am the only princess." I stared at her, too drained to feel anger. "Are you done?" I whispered. "If you're done... get lost." The smile on Alyssa’s face vanished. Her expression twisted into pure malice. Taking a deliberate step forward, she tipped the porcelain mug, emptying the scalding tea directly over my face. The boiling liquid washed over my cheeks and neck, stinging my frozen skin with blistering heat. "Who do you think you are, talking down to me?" Alyssa hissed, dropping to a crouch, her lips brushing my ear. "You think I didn't read that bottle? I read the Latin on the printout. Special cardiac-support medication for end-stage multi-organ collapse. I knew exactly what it was." My eyes widened in horror. She knew. She had known the entire time. "You..." I lifted a shaking, mud-stained hand, trying to claw at her silk wrap. Alyssa let out an ear-splitting, terrified scream and flung herself backward with violent precision. "Splash!" She hit the center of the deep, heated decorative lap pool, sending a geyser of water into the cold air. "Help! Simon, help me! She pushed me!" she shrieked, flailing wildly in the illuminated water. The terrace doors flew open. Simon was the first through, his eyes blazing when he saw Alyssa thrashing in the water. "Alyssa!" Without a second thought, he dove in, wrapping his arms around her waist and hauling her to the coping. Alyssa was shivering, sobbing hysterically against his chest. "Simon... I just brought her some hot tea... she said she wanted me dead... she shoved me..." Holding her dripping form, Simon turned his head toward me. If a look could flay skin, I would have been reduced to bone. "You sociopathic bitch," he snarled, his voice shaking with murder. "She came out here to show you mercy, and you tried to drown her?" He lunged across the turf, his heavy boot catching me squarely in the ribs. The force sent my light, withered body flying backward over the edge. "Splash." The freezing water closed over my head. The weight of the pool pressed against my chest from every direction, crushing the little air left in my lungs. I didn't thrash. I didn't kick. I was too tired. God, I was so profoundly tired. Beneath the surface, I opened my stinging eyes and looked up through the shimmering, pale blue light. Above, Simon was already carrying Alyssa into the warmth of the house, his broad back disappearing through the French doors. Not a single person looked back. I let out my very last bubble of air. It drifted toward the light and popped. My body began to sink down into the silent, welcoming dark. Finally, I thought. I can sleep forever.