Chapter 7: The Vial

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• Ivory •

          He is quite the angry soul, isn't he? This isn't a situation I'm particularly fond of. After all, who would ever want to be rooming with the man that assaulted them on the first day of Uni? What if he had a rough day and just couldn't help it? We all have a breaking point, whether it's a series of unfortunate events that trigger it, or one shattering moment. Maybe, just maybe, that was his breaking point.

          I make my way into the kitchen again and clean up the plates, putting his into the oven to keep warm. I throw mine away as I am in too much pain to have any appetite. I forgot to take my evening medications. I am exhausted, as always, but surprisingly more than usual tonight. I stumble back to my room after parking my wheelchair in the hall. I take three pills, then I take in three deep breaths. I try to lay in a comfortable position but nothing feels right.

          I can't help but shiver and wonder if I should buy a box heater for the semester. The rooms are frigid, but my body can not regulate it's temperature on its own. Eventually I can't keep my eyes open any longer and drift into a limbo state of sleep. I am not fully asleep, nor am I fully awake. I can hear my thoughts play faintly in the background as I try and focus on my breathing, but I jolt back awake.

          Fuck, I hate this!

          I feel tears welling in my eyes as the sensation of a trillion burning stakes rattled my body and I can't stop myself from twitching and ticking. I am tense and I hate it. I am in pain and I hate it. I want to to scream but I can't. I hate it. I hate it! I can't stand this I, "Hate this!" I can't stop myself from crying, this is the point on my night where I don't have to mask the pain, where I don't have to mask the odd, the disease, or rather, myself.

          Before I know it I can feel my body go numb, an excruciatingly painful sort of numb. It's feeling everything and nothing at the same time, and then everything goes black again, the way it always does . . .

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