Her Pacifier: Secrets From The Past

Chapter 2

I made it through the first classes quite easily and mostly alive. I had energy and zest for some. Sciences, wasn't so bad. Algebra nearly killed me, History was... well...history.
The one class that made me think I wouldn't make it out alive was Languages because it was my first.
Drae and I were of course late but we decided to both take the blame for it. To get over the argument we had earlier on like civilised civilians and move on with our first day of boarding school swiftly. In my head.
After passing by the reception first for our registration signs as proof that we didn't bunk school, we were stuck with each other for a whole 30 minutes in Languages.

Man, that felt like forever. Drae was my desk mate and it was really hard for me to focus on Mr Rodgerson's lesson without him talking about nothing but nonsense. The poor teacher kept on halting inbetween french sentences to look above his brown rims and scan the classroom carefully with a poisonous glare. To his unfortune, he caught no-one talking. Drae carried on flirting to the girls who paid attention, like an unstoppable chatterbox, making the class echo with giggles.

Then finally it came; "Drae Boldman!"
Mr Rodgerson barked with his strong English accent.

Since we walked out of our dormitory, in the boy's quarters- in the West Wing and into school in such haste with no words being said, whatsoever. I thought it would be the same for our classes together but I was wrong. Drae Boldman wouldn't shut up!

"Let me remind you, you were late for class on your first day of school. If you want to make it worse, detention could still be an option!"

Drae rolled his eyes but his mouth was zipped for the rest of the lesson.

I was relieved.

Immediately the bell rang, I ran out of the class in a flash without looking back. Its lunch time now and I desperately need a hot cup of coffee. Maybe hot chocolate would flow down my dry throat even better than coffee but my body needs the caffeine it's missing. I'm addicted to it so badly that I even led to an extend to taking more than two cups a day. But I'll never forget the day it got out of hand and how I used that as my advantage to nearly cutting my life short.

Back home, In Central America, the week after my dad found my mom's body floating on the surface of our colossal, trapezium shaped pool. I drank seven mugs of caffeine in three hours due to depression to my mom's death, till my body convulsed and felt hollow. I felt a sharp pain tearing my insides out, burning my liver and kidneys into raging flames. Cry out loud was all I could do before having a seizure, then passing out.

I dwelled into the beauty of visioning only pitch black and feeling like nothing. That was exactly what I was yearning for- to see nothing, hear nothing and feel nothing.
I swear I thought that's how death felt and if it did, I didn't ever want to escape out of it.
Its' excrusioning silence was beautiful.
I woke up two days later in the evening on an uncomfortable hospital bed to people talking about me. The back of my hands were pinned with pipes, fingers pinned with pegs and I was breathing through an oxygen pipe.

"Is he alright?" I could tell it was my dad. He sounded awful and I was kinda stunned he was worried about me.

"There's too much caffeine and alcohol in his system at the moment, it's too risky for his kidneys and liver. But I assure you, he is a healthy boy and we're trying the best we can to help him-"

The doctor's words were interrupted by my brother Jeremih, the son who's head popped out first. "Good. That will save us from more deaths and funeral costs," he said.

I wasn't surprised by the remark at all. He was always the sour one who disliked me along with dad.

"Jeremih! Save your shit for later," Jade, the protective and not so bad one shouted at him. "His our brother and you ought to cater to him even in a situation like this."