Violence (Sequel to Have Faith In Me)

25: Questions and answers

Thump thump thump.

I groaned as my hand flew up to my head to try to steady my head that was spinning. My vision was slightly blurred and I used my other hand to shield my eyes from the slit of daylight that was peeking through my bedroom window.

I slowly turned my head to the clock on my bedside table, I squinted at it until it came into focus. 6:32am.

Brilliant.

I thought about what had happened to make myself feel this vulnerable and weak, but nothing sprung to mind.

I tried rolling my leg over to lie myself on my side, but it was stiff to the bone.

I moaned and realised that my throat was burning.

I stayed put for about half an hour before heaving my body out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom.

I studied my appearance in my body length mirror. I was a complete mess.

It wasn't until I clocked my outfit that I realised that I had indeed, contracted myself a hangover.

And I felt like a million bricks had been dropped on my head.

I hadn't changed when I got back in last night and I sat on my bathmat trying to recall something, anything, that might've happened last night.

I remembered arriving, and Blake being very kind and accommodating. I remembered being offered my first drink, recalling it in slow motion. I picked out fine details, but the overall picture of what happened was hazy. I remembered how people looked at me, the incredulous looks when I didn't know how to take a proper shot of tequila.

But that was it. I couldn't recall what happened after my first shot.

When did I get home?

How did I get home?

I peeled my outfit off, cringing at the way I dressed because it was not like me at all. I pulled on some leggings and a long sleeved top that came down mid-thigh.

I snail-paced my way downstairs, gripping the bannister for support. My nails dug into the wood and if they were long, they definitely would have snapped at my grip.

I dumped my dirty clothes that reeked of a brewery in the washing machine and put it on with some of my other blacks that needed washing.

I went into the kitchen and apparently woke Rogue up because she started to pace around next to me.

Walking began to get easier as I did more of it, and I made myself a cup of tea. Whilst it was brewing, I sipped a glass of water and took some painkillers.

I collapsed on the sofa and watched old children's television shows all morning, waiting for the pain in my head to go. It was going to be a long day.

I stayed like that all day, only taking a couple of trips to the toilet and kitchen. I had next to no appetite, so I just kept drinking water. I took painkillers every 4 hours, which was the only time I got up to go to the toilet and make a trip to the kitchen.

In the late afternoon, there was a ring of the doorbell. I slowly went up to the door and looked through the peep hole. It was Blake.

"Hey, I just wanted to make sure that you're okay. You had a pretty rough night and I wanted to make sure you got home safe and you were feeling somewhat healthy." He said, his words in a complete jumble.

I smiled weakly. "Yeah well, I've been better but thank you." I hesitated. He walked all this way to check on me? "Would you like to come in?" I invited.