i͓̽t͓̽a͓̽i͓̽ ͓̽i͓̽t͓̽a͓̽i͓̽ ͓̽n͓̽o͓̽ ͓̽S͓̽I͓̽C͓̽K͓̽ ͓̽S͓̽I͓̽C͓̽K͓̽ {Cookie Run}

įղէօ×ìçąէìօղ

She staggered out of her room with an aching sensation filling every inch of her dough. Her head especially was beginning to throb with pain- but really, her entire body was in general agony.

Her head was spinning, to the point she was starting to see double, and this combined with the sudden shortness of her breath t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷t̷e̷l̷l̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷j̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷p̷a̷n̷i̷c̷k̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷r̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷e̷n̷ ̷y̷e̷t̷ ̷a̷n̷o̷t̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷e̷f̷f̷e̷c̷t̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷c̷o̷n̷c̷o̷c̷t̷i̷o̷n̷ made walking to the living room take...

She didn't know how long.

The numbers on the clock, she couldn't read them anymore. She couldn't recognize them. She couldn't process any of them.

Her head hurt even more trying to do so.

But she eventually found her way in, and, after further difficulty bumping into the furniture, finally managed to sit herself down.

She lay back on the sofa, but even cessation of action did nothing to make breathing an easier task. She could feel her heart beating in her h̷e̷a̷d̷ chest. I̷t̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷s̷p̷e̷a̷k̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷v̷e̷r̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷r̷e̷a̷s̷o̷n̷.̷ ̷S̷h̷o̷u̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷v̷e̷r̷ ̷i̷t̷.̷

'Why even bother sitting out here? You know he's not going to notice. Even if he does, he won't be concerned. Get to work; Be productive with your time at least...'

She shook any thought from her mind the moment her brother came into the room. She felt too weak to even spend the energy talking to him, s̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷n̷ ̷s̷u̷r̷e̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷ ̷a̷b̷l̷e̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷g̷e̷t̷ ̷a̷ ̷c̷o̷h̷e̷r̷e̷n̷t̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷d̷ ̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷w̷a̷y̷,̷ but surely he'd at least ask how she was doing. And then when she didn't answer, he'd look at her, and then he'd notice something was wrong-

But he just walked on by.

H̷e̷ ̷s̷a̷i̷d̷ ̷s̷o̷m̷e̷t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷,̷ ̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷f̷o̷c̷u̷s̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷d̷s̷.̷ ̷A̷n̷d̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷d̷i̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷c̷h̷a̷n̷g̷e̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷f̷a̷c̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷he just left the room a̷n̷y̷w̷a̷y̷.̷

(̷M̷a̷y̷b̷e̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷s̷o̷u̷n̷d̷e̷d̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷"̷L̷o̷v̷e̷ ̷y̷a̷,̷ ̷s̷i̷s̷"̷ ̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷t̷e̷l̷l̷.̷ ̷S̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷h̷a̷v̷e̷ ̷b̷e̷l̷i̷e̷v̷e̷d̷ ̷i̷t̷,̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷w̷a̷y̷.̷)̷

That woefully familiar miasma of grape juice hit her senses, worsening that already overwhelming nausea of hers. Stronger than ever. O̷r̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷a̷m̷e̷ ̷a̷s̷ ̷u̷s̷u̷a̷l̷.̷.̷.̷?̷ ̷E̷v̷e̷r̷y̷t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷j̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷f̷e̷l̷t̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷s̷e̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷t̷h̷i̷s̷.̷.̷.̷

'...what a joke. He just walked right past you. He probably didn't even realize you're here. He probably forgot you again.'

The leaks were back, gushing, overflowing- and she didn't have the energy to fix them. Agonizing all alone, with this toxin eating away at her system...