The Unsatisfying Trilogy

1st story: How to treat a headache

Jessica scurried through the cabinet, her eyes and hands looking for a single paracetamol. 

Laxatives
No.
Aspirin
No.
Calpol
They're too old.
Tylenol
Smell weird.
Donepezil
Definitely not!

Piles and piles of mixed up varieties of medication were stacked together. There was no organisation at all!

"Have you found anything?" cried an ill voice from the living room.

The voice belonged to a child named Cyril Astor. All evening, he had been unwell with a painful headache. Cyril was always having headaches due to a neurological defect. As a result of this, Cyril had a cabinet all to himself that was full of meds prescribed to him by his doctor.
Unfortunately, this time Cyril's headache was much worse.
Yet his family weren't at home to look after him and his babysitter didn't know anything about Cyril's unfortunate condition. 

Still frantically searching, Jessica figured she needed to fasten her pace if she didn't want to lose her job.

"Haha, it's not a paracetamol but it should still help," she reassuringly carried some headache pills to the other room, "how's your migraine kid?"

"I don't think... it's a... migraine, Jessica," eleven year old Cyril replied in parts, his voice floating away.

"You alright?" Jessica casually asked, approaching the child, "Has it got worse?"

Cyril didn't respond. Instead, he was acting oblivious to the rest of the world. He was touching objects around him, as if he was trying to guide himself out of the dark.

"Hey, kid," Jessica snapped, frustrated but worried too, "can you not see? You're acting like my mum when she's playing VR."

Losing touch of reality, Cyril turned towards Jessica. In a second, his behaviour changed, contrasting to his state of panic from a few seconds ago.

 "I think I'm fine actually. It's getting better. I don't need the pills." Cyril told Jessica. 

Jessica laughed, admiring the irony, "Huh. Yeah you don't need these pills. You need something for way worse situations. You look like crap Cyril."

Cyril stood up, with no struggle. Every part of his body shook, even his hairs quivered. 

A dark, eerie blue light made its way into the house. 

"Jessica, don't be silly. I'm fine." Cyril's own voice had gone, replaced with something way more ghostly.
Replaced with the voice of another soul.

"Cyril, you need to take some pills. If your mum was here, she'd be losing her shit and would literally force feed some medicine into you," Jessica backed into the rooms corner.

Cyril chuckled, a creepy, weird chuckle, "You're funny, Jessy. I can see why my sister's friends with you."

"Yeah and I can see why I shouldn't have volunteered to look after you," Jessica was worried now, but she didn't know what of yet.

She just new something wrong had dominated Cyril's fragile mind.
Cyril had never acted like this before. Usually he was just quietly watching TV whilst Jessica was pretending to look after him. Even when he was ill , he wouldn't behave so strangely!

"You get paid." Cyril remarked, at least something he said made sense, "And if you want to continue getting paid, don't give me the pills."

Jessica shook her head, trying to rid her confusion, "Why? Cyril you need the pills. They'll help-"