BLACK ROSE

Eight times

Alex.

Here we go again.

I run to the bathroom, kneel before the toilet, and let it all out just in time. It's three in the morning and I'm throwing up in Mae's bathroom. I was stupid enough to eat that damn sandwich when I know I always throw up after consuming them. I must've been high like the empire state building, or I have lost my sanity to the final point.

I wash my mouth and stare at myself in the mirror. I try to put my hair back in place, but I just make it worse. With a sigh I just leave the bathroom and walk to Ace and Mae.

"Hey," Ace nods his head when he sees me. I'm thankful I don't cry or get watery eyes when I throw up. "You good now?"

"I hope so." I sink into the free spot next to him. In the last two hours, I've thrown up seven times. Twice every thirty minutes, which means I'll either throw up once more or I'm finally done. Because throwing up is exhausting.

"Seven times, huh?" Mae walks in with something in three cups. "I made some for you too, if you want." She puts the tray on the table and the smell of hot chocolate hits my nose instantly. I walk over to the window, trying to prevent myself from running to the bathroom again. Any smell makes me want to throw up the empty stomach. Seven times is perfectly enough, I don't need to run there again.

Ace and Mae start to bicker about what movie to watch. It's unusual that we crash at Mae's house after parties. Her parents don't tend to leave over the weekend that often. Though now they've made a rare exception, freeing the apartment for us. While they bicker about the movie, I'm on my phone. As it has turned out, I've seen most of the movies they suggest and there's no place left for me in the discussion.

"Have you finally agreed?" I ask, my voice a lot raspier than usual. Neither of them answers me, which means no. Another ten minutes pass by, when they finally agree on some cheesy cliché comedy romance movie. If Ace allowed her to play, he's still high and drunk.

I reach for the hot chocolate, swirling the liquid a bit. Mae didn't give me any marshmallows, but instead compensated for it with more chocolate. I ignore the sweet smell and pour a bit down my throat. It hurt at first, leaving my tongue aching. The liquid travels down my body, warming it. Second pass by and nothing unusual happens in my stomach, so I conclude it's alright for me to finish it.

We're halfway through the movie when I run to the bathroom for the eighth time.

I can't go home like this. My mum would ask too many questions and I don't have enough answers. I believe she's aware that I've drank before, she must be. However at the same time I know she believes with her whole heart that I've never touched any drug, that I'm keeping a far distance. Which I wish would be true. I know she's convinced herself of this reality, somehow allowing alcohol to exist in it. But drugs....drugs are off the table.

When I come back, I sit down like nothing happened. Maybe, just maybe all of this isn't caused because of alcohol and weed. Maybe there's a sickness creeping up on me, although being sick at this time is unlikely.

Whatever the reason is, I need to get my vomiting under control by the time I leave. Otherwise there's a number of possible scenarios, all of which I'd like to avoid.

I could always tell her the half-truth – out of desperate hunger I ate a servo sandwich, which she knows always causes me to throw up. Maybe she'd leave it be then. She doesn't stick her nose in my business anymore, unless I throw up. The second she notices or thinks I'm sick to the point I'm throwing up, I'm a little boy again being taken all care of.

The point of all scenarios is to stay away from the hospitals. There's a possibility they would run tests for marihuana. Although I don't see the reason, it's possible. And as long as it's just possible, it's something I'm planning on staying away from.