My eyes open around four o'clock in the morning, awoken by the feeling of a building sickness in my gut.
I was awake.
I stand up, the sick feeling rushing to my heart, pounding against my chest. I feel my throat burning. My mouth fills with saliva.
I cover my mouth, stumbling to the bathroom as I try to clear my vision. I collapse to my knees, holding my hair back as my body forces the pills and junk food I'd had the previous night out of my system.
I was alive.
But I didn't feel like it.
I lay on the floor, my arms shaking as my stomach tried to get rid of more food I had never eaten. My tongue senses the bitterness being forced out of my mouth, making me stick it out as I cough up more green liquid into the water. Just the sight of bile made me gag again.
Once I know it's over, I struggle to my feet, just in time to hear pounding on my door, and just in time to smell the distinct scent of weed radiating off of my step brother, Larry. Even behind a closed door, you couldn't mistake him.
I tell him to wait, scrambling to find my hardly used tooth brush so he wouldn't smell the vomit. I find my toothbrush just as I'm flushing the toilet...just in time to drop it. Just my luck.
"Gross, dude!" Larry exclaims, suddenly behind me. Right. I try to kill myself, and for the first time in my life, had forgotten to lock my door.
"Since when did you care about that stuff, anyways?" Larry jokes. I wasn't amused. It took him about 3 minutes to realize I wasn't going to laugh.
"Right, uh, ma wants you upstairs. She's making breakfast."
"Not hungry."
"You're always hungry!"
"...you've got a point. Yeah, I'll be right up. Just, uh, let me find a new toothbrush."
"It's only been in a few minutes, should be fine if you wash it."
"Larry?"
"Yeah lil dude?"
"Get the hell outta my room." I say, staring blankly at him. Larry gets the message, leaving.
I stare at the toothbrush, contemplating my options. I didn't have many. So, I grab a towel, picking the toothbrush out of the toilet. The water was low, and the bristles had never touched the water, anyways...
Fuck it. I run the toothbrush under water and wash the handle with soap, trying my best to distract myself from where it had just been.
I get some toothpast on the end, putting it in my mouth and starting to brush. I glance at the toilet. I drop the toothbrush, spitting repeatedly into the sink.
Nope. Couldn't do it.
I threw up again. Maybe they'd let me skip school today?
