Hungry

from the musical THE FEAST

It wasn't too terrible at first. Sort of a nagging, dull ache. And there was the eventual headache, but it really wasn't too terrible, at all. I suppose I thought it would be worse, the hunger, but after a few days you start to forget. And as your body eats away at the toxins inside, trying to cling to any sort of nutrition it can find, you get the occasional burst of energy. For a few hours, you're running around like a mad man, feeling more refreshed than you have in years. The sun seems brighter, the air feels fresher, the birds sing prettier. But when you turn around to go inside, the porch steps look daunting. They look terribly frightening. And your legs, as you lift them one at a time up the creaky stairs, weathered and aged, they maybe give out underneath you. Margaret, the nurse, she comes over and picks you up, practically carries you up the stairs. But once you're sitting down, oh, Dora, and you've caught your breath? You catch a glance of yourself in the mirror and my eyes... Oh, my eyes, they look so hollow. And my cheeks have caved in, my lips pale and almost blue. Someone's left a window open and a chill runs down my spine because I get cold so easily now.

I've befriended a nice young orderly. He's a black boy. His named is Thomas. He's a little younger than me, I think, and Dora -- sometimes, when I think I can't take the growling anymore, I ask him for a little juice. And he sneaks it my way when no one's looking. It feels so cool on my throat.

Yes.

That's it. The thirst is the worst. The growling, the weakness, the empty eyes-- that I can take, but my throat? Oh, Dora, it is always parched. In the morning the windows are wet with dew and sometimes I think to myself, what if I licked it dry? Those little blue crystals would feel so lovely on my tongue. But on the days that I feel strong? Oh, Dora, do I ever feel strong. Perhaps there is a method to all this madness. Perhaps there really is some possibility to it.

I miss you, Dora.

Affectionately,

your sister Clara.