I Meet the Mutt [CURRENTLY BEING EDITED]

11 | Family Reunion

You know, in the books, movies, and TV shows, a sick character is usually having the time of her life. Yes, she's still sick and all, but that's okay—as long as she can walk, she will most definitely go and explore the world. And Netflix. With a stuffy nose.

In reality, you feel like a gassy goose has just shit itself all over your face and body and like every single hole is clogged up. You can't breathe so you have to exhale through your mouth, even though you have a sore throat. So by exhaling through your mouth you're also causing yourself even more pain by exhausting your poor throat, since mouth-breathing causes swallowing. Oh, and not to mention you have to have a bag or bowl next to you at all times in case you start to feel nauseous and end up puking up whatever's left over in your stomach. Ah—did I forget to mention how, when you're sick, you don't feel like doing jack shit?

That was exactly how I felt the morning after the party thing. It felt like a dreary Tuesday to me, even though it was a cheery, bright Saturday morning.

While I had Netflix handily opened up, I couldn't muster nearly enough energy to grab the remote and surf through the most recent Criminal Minds episodes. So yeah, in essence, I was a poor soul stuck in a sick, useless body.

Although doctors tell you constantly that the best way to get better is by water and sleep, my way of healing myself was chocolates and ginger ale. It may not be the healthiest combination, but it sure did the job. Besides, who sleeps when you can be gorging yourself on chocolate?!

"Mom!" I yelled in my nasally, stereotypical secretary voice. "Can you get my laptop?"

It was kind of weird how my mom and I mutually "made up". We didn't really talk anymore, and dinner times were sort of just filled up with Victoria's babbling about school and sports while I stuffed my face with food as quickly as possible to leave. She and I were on civil terms and all, but when it came to family reunions, we became stiff and awkward.

Yet my mom still didn't lose her soft side when it came to sick people. Hence me.

I could hear her footsteps thumping up the stairs and nearing my bedroom. She flung the door open, an apron tied halfheartedly to her waist, her hands covered in white powder. So maybe now wasn't the best time to call for her.

"What?" she asked breathlessly. I gauged her appearance, then said,

"Are you baking a cake or something?"

She shrugged. "Of that sort."

There was a brief pause.

"Uh, can you get my laptop? I have to work on my website."

Carefully, she wiped her hands on her apron, unplugged my laptop, and thrust it towards me. "Call Victoria next time, would you? And lunch's in a bit."

With that, she walked right out of my room.

"Can't you close the door?" I asked weakly, but either my mom didn't hear me or she heard and ignored.

Sighing, I heaved myself up from my comfortable spot under my blankets and closed the door, staggering and swearing under my breath from the chilliness of being out of bed. Why people bothered to have a life on Saturdays when they could be sitting in bed with Netflix and chocolate was beyond me.

My "website" that I was working on had been an idea I'd had for several years, when I first got into coding and all that jazz. Unfortunately, my parents were nowhere near geniuses when it came to computers and technology, so I had to spend the first year and a half teaching myself coding by poring over countless tutorial videos and beginners' programs until I actually got the hang of it.