Unbreakable

Chapter 34: So Sick

Chapter 34: So Sick                           

I lingered in my bed for as long as I possibly could, burying my face in the mattress to block out the clatter around the room that I wasn’t paying attention to.

If there was one thing I knew it was that my stomach hurt, badly.

My eyes flew open as a boom came from somewhere close.

I sat up, sending a stab to my side.

Keene stared back, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

I nodded, “Its okay.”

He was packing my suitcase; his was by the door, ready to go.

“How are you feeling, dear?” He asks.

I slowly layed my head back down.

 I couldn’t say anything; I shook my head.

Everything was a blur from there. I didn’t remember anything else, and when I finally got to thinking about what’d happened, I was in my bed at the apartment.

I was kind of a zombie, exhausted, and sick to my stomach.

I don’t know how long I was actually in bed that day.

The only thing I could hold down was water and I lost ten pounds because of the starvation.

I refused to go anywhere or see anyone mostly because I didn’t feel well enough.

Not knowing what to do besides hold my hair back when I got violently sick, Keene called on my mother to help take care of me.

She-thank god- was much more educated in restoring health.

I had a fever most days and on the days I didn’t, I had stabbing cold chills.

Other days, I had a brain splitting headache.

I had one saltine cracker… I didn’t hold that down at all.

I cried through the pain every night, lying on Keene’s shoulder.

He kissed away my tears, rubbing my back. Occasionally, he put a hand over my clammy forehead.

“It hurts.” I whined.

“I know. Shh.” He comforted.

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After two whole weeks of feeling like this, I couldn’t bare anymore.

“Keene, honey, I need a doctor.” I said finally.

Mom, who slept on the couch, was going with Keene and me to the hospital.

I could barely walk without collapsing.

I didn’t like doctors, I hated needles, I couldn’t stand pain, and I didn’t want to know if I had a life-threatening-disease, so for me to suggest going to hospital-that was pretty big.

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I’d never been poked, proded, scrutinized, or observed so much.

It wasn’t until after the million doctors left that I spoke.

I sat on the examining table, ready to fall over; I didn’t have the strength to hold myself up.

Keene jumped up next to me the minute he had the chance. I laid against him.

“What’s wrong with me?” I asked weakly.

Mom shook her head, “We don’t know, honey.”

I sighed, “It hurts.”

“What does, babe?” Keene asked.

“Everything.” I responded.

Just then, the doctor came in, shaking his head.

I held my breath as he spoke.