The Melancholy of Cassandra-Marie

(8)

"God DAMN IT, Cassandra!" my coach says. "I told you to stay hydrated and practice the best possible hygiene so that this wouldn't happen!"

"I'm sorry." I say — the phrase muffled by my hands, currently providing a space for my face to rest. I thought I wouldn't get yelled at anymore because I'm away from home. I spoke too soon.

"I can't believe this. You stay healthy all through trials, all through practice, through the plane ride, through everything! But now this? The flu out of nowhere? You have to be kidding me." She rants.

I sit up, trying to ease the pain in my abdomen and the soreness of my chest.

"I promise I'll drink more water and watch what I'm eating. I'll be better in no time."

"We'll see. I'm very concerned as to what's going on with you. I'm checking on you first thing tomorrow morning. If something's off, you're going to the doctor."

"But I-"

"That wasn't a question." She exits the room, shutting the door behind her.

I haven't felt well for a few days, and my body's doing things I don't recall it ever doing before. I don't think I can compete like this... I'm not really sure what to do.

Worry is lingering over me like the radiation that shrouds itself over this very city. I did something stupid — not that I'm surprised; I'm convinced that, other than on the floor, I can only screw things up at this point.

I remember so clearly what happened. I had a feeling I was going to have a big fight with my dad soon. I was afraid that he wouldn't let me see Louis. I was over late at night. His family was out of the house somewhere, I think they were just having some sort of gathering in the backyard. Louis and I did two shots each — a toast to good luck and fortune, and the other to undying love and mutual respect. I was so distraught that I'd have to leave him for a while. He just comforted me while I drunkenly cried. When I stopped, we just kissed for a few minutes. Before long I could feel the crisp summer air seep through the slightly open window and caress my shoulders and the small of my back. My front felt different, pressed up against the soft, downy sheets of Louis' bed. His pillows reeked of soothing lavender, with just a touch of his cologne. I felt really happy leaving his house that night. But something felt oddly scary. I got home to hear my dad fighting with my mom on the phone... and everything just seemed so final.

I'm cold. I'm in another country and it's three in the morning. I lay on the bathroom floor in just a tank top and boyshorts. The toilet auto-flushes, and once the water sounds pass, I hear footsteps enter the room. My roommates help me rinse my mouth and get me back into bed, trying to keep me calm. They both promise me that things'll get better, and that I just have to power through this. One of them says to me to keep saying to myself what I always do... you know... focus on your ability. I sing a verse to myself before falling back to sleep.

"Cassandra, wake up." coach says to me sternly. "I heard you in the bathroom last night. Get out of bed, you're going to the doctor whether you want to or not."

"Please, just let me explain."

"No. If you're in bad shape, you go to the doctor. That's it. I drag the covers off myself and she helps me out of bed. She grasps my arm firmly and pulls me out the door and down the hall. Sophia and Ainsley watch in shock as I get pulled out the door. I have a feeling that I am absolutely screwed.