home. // katy perry fan fiction

thirteen;

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chapter thirteen:
hangovers and medications;
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Shannon came in and woke me up early in the morning- or at least to me, it was really early in the morning. My head was pounding and my vision was completely blurred. I wince and attempt to turn over, hoping to ignore the bright light coming from outside as it sends daggers directly towards my poor butchered brain.

"Vi, get up you lazy head!"

"Leave me alone. . I wanna sleep." I slur as I bury my head into the pillow.

"Come on, get up! God, you're just like your mother. If you're going to pass out like this then stop taking tequila shots!"

"My brain cannot take any more of this shouting. ." I slightly lift my head, immediately regretting the action. I bury my face back on the soft pillow.

"Leave me here alone to die. ." I moaned as Shannon grabs my duvet and yank it off me, exposing me to the chilly breeze.

"Get your ass up! It's two in the afternoon and you've had more than ten hours of sleep!"

"But I'm dying, Shan." I moan, frantically trying to find a pillow to shield more of my head from the blazing sun.

"Hon, that's called a hangover. Trust me, sleeping all day won't help at all. Just get out of bed; Oversleeping makes your head hurt a hell lot more."

"Ugh. ." I roll onto my back, clutching one of the many pillows like my life depended on it and that somehow it'd help lessen the throbbing of my head. She rolls her eyes at me.

"Why must you cause me such pain, Shannon Marie?"

After a whole lot of grunts and scowls later, I finally attempt to leave the comfort of my momentary heaven- the very soft queen sized bed Mia and I share. I crawl my way towards the en suite, too burned out to even make much effort.

"What the hell happened last night?" I mumble, cringing deeply.

The reflection I see of myself in the mirror don't even look like me, or it might just have been my messed up vision. Either way, I look much worse than those hookers we saw sucking faces with guys at the back of the crammed bar last night. This shower better do me justice. I turn on the tap and wash my face with cold water, instantly waking me up. Stepping out of the denim cut-offs and lace top that I wore to that crammed club last night at a sluggish pace, I begin to regret my ability to make good decisions- well, in last night's situation, I had none. I know I shouldn't have accepted Aunt Mia's challenge just so I could somehow fit in with the adults. I didn't.

My eyes are barely open as I stumble out of the bathroom after a nice long shower and into the dinning area for breakfast, or coffee if I put it more accurately. Mom is sitting across the table with her hand supporting her head, her jet black hair covering half of her face as she complain about her headache. I take a seat across her, my head immediately swirling. I try to push down the puke that's making it's way up my dry throat, my lips pursed into a tight line. I take deep breaths in hopes of keeping my dinner inside my system, lowering my head on the cool glass table, my stomach doing summersaults now.

"I'm never drinking that much again. ."

"Tell that to me again after your daughter's birthday party next weekend." Aunt Shannon says, smirking in amusement. I momentarily open my eyes at the mention of my birthday a week from now.

God, I completely forgot about my birthday.

I mumble a quick prayer to remember the fact that I should never touch alcohol for the next ten years or so. Unpleasant tingles rush through my body as I think of getting another hangover.