Define worse

As Skyler walked to the kitchen, Verona had just finished filling the sink with hot soapy water to clean the aluminum cans of cat food. Verona was fairly short, about 5' 2" and significantly overweight, or morbidly obese as she put it. She had shoulder length gray hair, brown/green hazel eyes, small bust, and hips. She was wearing gold plated glasses, black shorts, and a peach t-shirt with an outline of a dark pink peacock surrounded by an outline of purple grass and foliage, this was slightly to her right side, obviously off center.

Verona spoke as he entered the kitchen. "The dishes are on the table, but I haven't gotten the water yet." Skyler placed his phone down on top of the stove top and said before picking up an empty plastic pitcher. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it." With a quick turn of the kitchen's faucet to the other sink, he positioned it over the pitcher while turning on the cold water. Over the next fifteen seconds or so, he filled it three fourths of the way to the top. Once this was complete, he took it over to the french doors in back within the living room, setting it on top of a book stand close by.

Skyler walked over to the cluttered kitchen table to pick up the four dishes of cat food. There were two filled with dry food and two with wet food. After placing the bowls with wet food on top of the dry food, he lifted them up with each hand and headed for the door. He placed the food dishes on his left arm, being careful to balance them as he walked to the backdoor. Verona called out to him to ask. "Would you like a hand with the door?" He shook his head and said. "No, I got it." After which he used his right hand to unlock and open the back door.

As the door opened, a wave of hot air rushes in, causing Skyler's ribs to tighten as it washes over him and several cats rushed by his feet, meowing to draw his attention. He sighed softly as he said. "Come on, outside. You know I'm not putting the food in there." He carefully watched his step, avoiding stepping on any of the cats, although they certainly tried to get in his way. He knelt down while setting down the dishes. This was temporarily interrupted by an orange and white cat, bumping its head against his hand before letting him set it down upon the ground.

Skyler chuckled before starting to pet two of the cats, switching off to another set of cats as he balanced on his toes and the balls of his feet. After about a minute of petting hungry cats, he picked up the empty dishes from the night before and headed to the door. His mother was waiting at the door with the pitcher of water, taking the empty dishes from him in exchange for it. When he turned around, a very skinny tortoiseshell cat named Shadiya was watching him, ignoring the food, obviously desiring his attention more than anything.

Skyler knelt back down and gently rubbed the top of her head, hearing a soft purr as she tilted her head and nuzzled his hand as he said. "Shadiya, you need to eat. I love you too, but food is important." He rubbed along her left ear several times with his thumb before scratching the top of her head gently. He stood up to walk over to the water dishes, kneeling back down to dump out the old water before refilling them with the water pitcher. Shadiya simply followed him, bumping her head against his right ass cheek as she walked underneath him, meowing at him.

Skyler blinked before sighing again upon seeing her. He reached down to scratch the top of her head again and said. "Yes, yes, I know. You needn't pay me so much attention. Just enjoy your food, Shadiya." He stopped scratching the top of her head as he stood back up, heading to the door and back inside the air conditioned house. She looked up at the door then over to the food. By the time he had finished setting the pitcher back down by the sink, she had started to eat some of the food. He walked back toward the french doors to watch Shadiya and the others eat for a short time.

At this moment, Skyler heard his father, Travon snoring nearby. He was resting on his blue, power lift recliner, clad in his church underwear of a white undershirt and long boxer briefs. Skyler let out a sigh, feeling a little stressed by this. His father was sitting in his own filth again, several sugar-free candy wrappers were resting on his large stomach and a large empty bowl of popcorn was sitting on the floor. To give you an idea of the size of this bowl, it was about 5 inches deep and had a diameter of 11 inches. At least it wasn't as big as his original bowl, which was at least double that. To the left of that bowl were several empty, recently purchased, 2 liter diet orange soda bottles.

Skyler shook his head as he thought. 'You'd think a man his age would at least clean up after himself.' Sadly, this was almost never the case. Granted Travon was almost 70, which was a little over twice Skyler's age of 34. He is a navy veteran, retired teacher, type 2 diabetic with insulin, who recently was diagnosed with acute heart failure. Skyler's ribs were beginning to cramp as he knelt down to pick up the popcorn bowl which also had several sugar-free candy wrappers inside it. He let out a sigh and picked up the candy wrappers upon his father's stomach and placed them in the bowl before heading to the kitchen, dumping out the contents within the trashcan there.

Mind you, there was a perfectly good trashcan merely 3 inches from his father's chair, but Travon preferred to use it as a little table than as a trashcan. Skyler set the empty bowl by the sink, but let out a heavy breath as his rib cramps worsened. The effects of the heat were starting to get to him. He tried to walk over to the table to sit down, but his feet felt too heavy to work properly. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a slightly heavier breath. He sighed very softly while shuffling his feet the short way to the closest chair at the table to sit down, but once he did the rest of his muscles were starting to weaken further, making it harder and harder to move and see.

Alas, yet another attack of Hypokalemic periodic paralysis or Hkpp. Unless someone came to Skyler's aid, he would be stuck in this chair until the potassium in his body returned to his nerves, allowing his muscles to move once again. His eyes looked around, but his eyelids were growing heavier, making it far more difficult to see anything. For the time being, he was alone and unable to do anything about it. As his eyelids closed as they had many times before with similar attacks. His mind ran over what caused this situation. 'Ah, it must have been because of how hot it is outside. That and the stress dad causes me.'

As Skyler's eyes fully closed, he thought about the different possible outcomes of this situation. He was partly grateful that this wasn't in public yet again. However, part of him hoped that this would finally be the one to end his existence. That of loneliness, misery, and pain. Hmm, would someone come to his aid? Or would he be **** to sit and wait this one out?