It's Not Magic

Eighteen

I did not want to wake up. Everything in my chest was sore, and my head was pounding like no other. I refused to open my eyes, knowing it would make my head even worse.

Groaning, I reached out for the blankets, but found none. With a sigh, I brought my hand back, laying it on my stomach.

Why did everything hurt but feel better all at the same time? It didn't feel right, and I tried remembering anything to try and place the pieces together.

There was me falling down the stairs, I remembered that. I remembered Kane coming to the steps, and after that, I wasn't really sure. I knew I somehow ended up in my room, and that there was this orange thing that stood over me for a couple minutes. I couldn't quite figure that thing out. I was positive it wasn't the sun.

Unless I was delusional, which was possible. Letting out a sigh, I brought my hands to my face, covering my eyes, so the light from the room would stop shining through my eyelids. My head seemed extremely sensitive, and even the slight squeaking in the wood floor brought pain to my head. Dammit Kane, why couldn't you stop walking for just one second?

I sighed as the creaking sounds in the wood came closer, pressing against the sides of my head as the pain grew worse. Not even five minutes being awake, and I could already guess that someone was going to start talking to me. Yay, more headache. I could only hope that my brain wouldn't explode.

The creaking stopped for a second, but was soon replaced with the sound of the door opening, and my head throbbed in protest. Clutching my head, I rolled over, hoping to bury my face in the pillow.

"Matthews?" Kane's voice asked, every syllable making my brain scream in protest.

Go away! I screamed in my head, not helping myself any. In fact, it only made my existent headache that much worse.

Kane was silent for a moment, not even his footsteps moving. "Are you alright?" He asked, emotion lacing his voice.

No, I muttered. Go away.

He was silent another second before answering. "No," he replied, almost seeming as some sort of sick joke.

I pushed my face into the pillow, preventing myself from breathing. "Go away," I muttered into the pillow.

"No," he answered again, just making me that much more annoyed. And my headache that much worse.

I clutched my head, the pain starting to make my head feel like it was going to explode. Thinking was making my head hurt, and pressing against my head didn't seem to be doing anything to help.

I heard Kane leave, and I felt myself relax at him being gone. I had the room to myself, and I finally had a chance at falling back asleep. I rolled on my side, the side that faced the door, not the window, and tried to fall asleep.

I felt myself drifting off, my thoughts becoming fuzzy, just as I was jolted awake by the sound of a beeping sound filling the house, followed by a hushed string of muttering. Soon to follow were footsteps, coming back towards the room.

With my head still pounding unreasonably, I threw my face back into the pillow, pulling the sides up so they were covering my ears.

"Matthews?" Kane asked, probably checking to see if I was awake. But his voice sounded muffled, almost as if he was speaking through something.

Fuck off, I thought, shoving my face into the pillow even further.

Deciding not to listen to me, I heard Kane walk closer, setting something down on the small table next to my bed. His footsteps faded. And I heard the sound of him pulling the curtains closed, blocking out the light. I snuck a peek, and saw that there was a lot less light in the room. Quickly shoving my face back into the pillow, I tried to pay no attention to Kane's footsteps as he came back towards the bedside table.