The Ragdoll

A Cloud of Blood

There was something incredibly off about the next day. Emily woke up and she didn't feel quite right. Oliver was lying next to her and she knew that Sarah was sleeping on the couch in the front room, but there was something inside of her that just didn't sit well. She looked around. Under the bed, in the closet, in the bathroom, out of the window. It appeared to be just like any other day. There was nobody watching her, at least not from what she could see. The sun peaked through the blinds, making Emily feel hot and uncomfortable.

She touched her stitches. They were swollen and infected, as usual. She felt her stomach. Thin. Unhealthy. Pale. She looked at herself in the mirror. She had fallen asleep in the sundress she wore the day before. She pulled it off over her head and threw it to the ground. She took the rubber band out of her hair and let it fall over her face. She brushed it aside and looked at herself.

She looked the same but still, something didn't feel right.

She felt something warm and wet press up against her cheek and noticed in the mirror that Oliver was standing behind her with his hands on her hips.

"Good morning Miss Thomas."

"Morning."

"Is everything okay?"

Emily turned around to face him. She stared at the coldness in his eyes.

"Does something feel off about today to you?"

"No, I feel fine. Why?"

"I just... nevermind."

"Well okay. Talk to me if you need to talk to me. I was thinking about making omelets for breakfast. You want one?"

"Sure," Emily whispered. She pecked him on the lips.

Emily and Sarah sat at the small wooden table while Oliver prepared their breakfast.

Emily was staring off into space, thinking and wondering. Wondering about what was wrong.

"Are you okay, Emily?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, sorry," Emily replied, snapping out of it. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine," Sarah said, half-confused.

"Here you go," Oliver said, slipping an omelet on Emily's plate.

Sarah clapped and immediately starting eating hers.

Emily stared at the eggs and spices in front of her, her head spinning and her hands shaking.

She didn't feel right, and it irritated her that she couldn't figure out what it was.

"Emily, what's wrong?" Oliver asked.

Emily clutched her stomach and fell out of her chair. She doubled over and started vomiting all over the kitchen floor.

"Oh my god, Sarah, go get a towel!"

That's the last thing Emily heard Oliver say before she blacked out.

She woke up on the couch with an icepack on her head, Oliver sitting beside her.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You're sick," he replied. "It was probably something from the fair."

Emily could barely make a fist. She felt weak.

"Sarah and I are going to go get you some medicine. Do you think you can lie here for a while without dying on us?"

Emily nodded.

"We'll be back in a bit."

Oliver stood up and walked over to the door where Sarah was already standing.