It All Started With An Apple

Chapter 14

Saying that it took a lot of work getting out of bed the next morning would be a complete and utter understatement.

You try sitting up when just thinking about moving brought pain to your lower body.  Yeah, I thought so.  Not so easy now, is it?

I begged my mom to let me stay home, but no, I had to go to school because I missed the day before.  It wasn’t like that was my fault!  That was like telling someone dying in the hospital that they had to go to school because on the way back from the previous appointment the car broke down and they had to miss school.  I was very tempted to use that analogy on her, but she’d probably smack me upside the head.  That was a pain I didn’t want to chance receiving.  I mean one pain was enough.  I didn’t need two.

“Brianne Nichols!” my mom screeched from down the hall.  “This is the last time.”

I groaned, trying to sit up and instantly falling back into bed as pain seared through me.  I chomped down on my cheek to keep from crying out.  Dammit, why did Mother Nature have to hate her daughters so much?  I mean, seriously?  This was so unfair.  “But, Mom!”  I whined.  “It hurts!”

“Take a pill.”

That was her solution?  Take a freaking pill?  I hoped she knew how incredibly selfish she sounded right now.  She would rather have her daughter pop pills into her mouth, chancing an overdose, instead of letting her stay home by herself where she could lie down and relax all day.  Did that make any sense?  Well, to me it didn’t.

“Let me get this straight,” I called, glaring at the empty doorway.  “You’d rather have me drug myself up than let me stay home today?”

“Glad you understand.  Now get out of bed!”

Wow.  I could feel the love this morning.

With a dramatic groan I hauled myself out of bed.  I bit my lip to keep from moaning from the unbelievable pain it aroused.  Today was going to be utter hell.  And it was all thanks to Mother Nature and my mother.  Stupid mothers.

“I hope you know that you are murdering your only child!” I hollered as I dragged myself toward my bedroom door.  Screw school clothes.  They could deal with my shorts and tank top.  I didn’t even care about the dress code at this point.

Ah.  Wait.  Dannon and Kyla knew I wore these already.  Dammit.

“I have a son,” my mom mused.

“Besides him!” 

I sighed deeply, twisting around and trudging to my bureau.  I threw open the drawers and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.  After throwing the clean outfit and tossing Aunt Jill’s clothes on the floor, I made my way into the bathroom where the medicine was kept.  My lovely Pamprin was sitting there waiting for me in front like it was meant for me.  You see, this is how drug addicts are made.  Their mothers force you to take meds.  When I was put in prison for being a druggie, I was going to blame her.

“Can’t I stay home?” I demanded again, pulling a mixture between a beg and a whine.  It was depressing that I had to stoop down to this point, really.  My mom usually gave in by now.  She was a very nice person who sympathized with those in pain.  But, apparently, when a car broke down the sympathy disappeared.

“I’ve told you already, Brianne.  No.”  My mom appeared in the bathroom doorway.  “You missed school yesterday.”

“But I’m in real pain here!”  I frowned as my mom shook her head.  With a glare, I snapped, “I’m going to slap you when you’re on your next period if you ask for sympathy.  I will have none for you.”