I Wani Spend My Life With That Gator.

Chapter 43- I Wani Fight This With You

May 16th 201M B.C 2028

Everyday hurts like hell now. Every day she woke up, every time she tried to live the rest of her life, the bowel pain that resonated deep within her was just too unbearable. She was glad that she had called in for work earlier; she would not have been able to make it today like she somehow did yesterday. She slipped out of bed and pushed her scaly purple feet into her fluffy pink and green caterpillar slippers. She brought her hand to her snout and let out a yawn that, for some reason, stung down below in her jaw. With a pained groan, Trish brought her hand to her pelvis and clenched it.

She stretched the best she could, looking at the time, and saw that it was past noon and that she had slept in again. She rubbed her pelvis and growled. Give her a break already; she had this day off, and she was glad since she was finally going to get treatment today to try and fight this cancerous pain that had been plaguing her for months now.

She threw on a robe that was by her bedside and looked out her apartment window. Her eyes felt crusty, and her mouth was dry. God, she felt as if she were hit by a truck right now. It didn't make it any better that her mattress is absolutely awful. She chuckled grimly. If she did survive this and beat this cancer, she was going to celebrate by throwing out that piece of junk.

She went to the corner of her room and saw a very tall, colorful tree-like plant that dominated the corner of the room. Its leaves were huge, and the stem was thick. She brushed some leaves out of the way and saw a silk-woven, leaf-clumped-together nest that looked to be as big as a coconut. The spherical nest that her best friend slept in made her smile. She peaked into the spherical green silky nest entrance and saw a sleeping orange and beige belly-colored worm curled up and sleeping.

The worm's antennae sagged a bit as the little worm slept comfortably in the silk-woven cocoon hut she had formed. Trish's face lit up, and a pained smile formed across her snout. She carefully reached in with her one finger and gently scratched the spot on her head, which made the worm's antennae spring up and scan the area. The worm began to uncurl itself and look around for the culprit who dared pet her head. She looked up at her mother with her beady black eyes. Trish could tell that the worm was excited since she began worming around in a circle adorably.

Trish presented herself, offered her hand to the worm, and sighed tiredly. "You hungry, Mango? I know I am. How about we go eat together again and after that we can get ready to go? It doesn't start for another four or five hours." Mango, Trish's pet worm, crawled out of her nest and settled itself onto her palm, then climbed up her arm and settled on her shoulder.

Trish chuckled and patted Mango's head and tracked off to her bare-bones kitchen, which was in need of resupply. She walked into the kitchen; dishes and pans went unclean, the trashcan was overfilled, and ants crawled everywhere due to all the rotten food that had laid in the trashcan for several days now. She groaned and rolled her eyes. She hated living so much; she hated living in this small, shitty-ass shoebox apartment. This was the best she could do, unfortunately. Sure, she made a good, modest living and owned a growing and expanding beauty salon, but that wasn't enough to get her out of this infested apartment.

She was saving up; fortunately for her, she had money stored away, and she was saving up to leave this shithole and go into a slightly lesser shithole that would at least not have ants crawling around every time she threw away her eaten food. She opened her fridge and looked inside. Grimacing, Trish saw that she only had Din-Os cereal, almost expired milk, what she thinks is supposed to be veggie bacon but it's completely green and moldy, a couple eggs in the tray, and in the back a fruit cup that she never did bite at after a week of it going unnoticed.

She groans and reaches in to grab the cereal, barely clinging to the milk. She got a stepping stool and reached up to open her kitchen cabinets to grab a bowel from where she kept them. Why didn't she keep them lower since she always used them? She couldn't tell you.