Shattered Asylum

Chapter 54

The soft glow of sunlight peeking through the curtains and the faint sound of birds chirping wake me. I stretch my arms over my head, only to realize Grayson isn't here.

I blink a few times, a dull pounding forming in my temples. A headache starts to creep around my skull, tightening uncomfortably.

I lay there a moment longer, trying to rub the grogginess from my eyes, but it's no use. The longer I stay still, the worse I feel.

A wave of nausea washes over me, and a dull, persistent ache settles in my throat.

Reluctantly, I sit up, hoping it will pass. I grab my phone to check the time and see if my grandparents have texted.

An uneasy breath escapes me as the nausea intensifies. My mouth begins to salivate uncontrollably, and sharp, painful contractions roll through my stomach.

The room starts to spin slightly, and a bitter taste creeps into the back of my throat. Panic sets in as I scramble off the bed, bolting to the bathroom just as the urge to vomit slams into me. My steps are unsteady and frantic, my body trembling with anticipation of what's coming.

I barely manage to life the toilet seat before my body convulses violently, retching with brutal force.

The sound of my vomiting echoes through the quiet bathroom, mingling with the acrid, sour smell rising from the toilet bowl. My stomach heaves again and again, expelling everything it can.

Tears streak down my face, a mix of physical pain and the sheer intensity of my body's efforts. I grip the edge of the toilet with white knuckled desperation, gasping for breath between retches.

Suddenly, I hear the rhythmic slap of bare feet against the cool tiled floor.

"Fuck, Av," Grayson says softly, his voice filled with concern as he kneels beside me. He gathers my hair in one hand, pulling it gently out of my face, while his other hand rubs soothing circles on my back.

Embarrassment and relief crash over me in equal measures. "I can't stop," I manage to choke out between heaves. My voice raw and shaky, panic lacing every word.

"You're okay. I'm here," he says firmly, his tone calming me even as my body betrays me again.

Eventually, the violent retching gives way to dry heaves, leaving me gasping for air, my chest heaving as I try to regain control. The lack of oxygen leaves me lightheaded and weak.

Grayson flushes the toilet before standing up. "Hold on," he says softly, disappearing for a moment.

He comes back with a damp washcloth, gently wiping my sweaty forehead. "You're okay, I've got you," he murmurs, his touch tender and reassuring.

I close my eyes, leaning into him, my body still trembling. "I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice weak and shaky.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. It happens," he says firmly but gently. I nod weakly, watching as he grabs an extra toothbrush and hands it to me.

I take it eagerly, desperate to get the bitter taste out of my mouth. Once I'm done, he helps me back to bed, tucking the blankets around me before heading out to grab a glass of water.

When he returns, I take a small sip, the coolness soothing my parched throat. "Thank you," I mumble, sinking deeper into the bed.

A relentless heat radiates from my skin, contrasting sharply with the shivers wracking my frame. My forehead is damp with sweat, yet I feel and icy chill deep in my bones.

My head throbs with a dull, pounding ache, and my limbs feel impossibly heavy. I groan softly, hoping to release even a fraction of the tension gripping my body.