Mistaken Love

Chapter Fifty.

December 21st

When you were little, did your family ever make you rest while everyone else was having a great time, because you grew ill? Would you cry over and over to your parents, saying that you were feeling better, just so you could partake in the activity everyone else was participating in? Would you jump out of bed, to celebrate a holiday with everyone, even though you had recently regurgitated your insides in the toilet bowl, because you didn't want to feel left out? If you had answered yes, I understand what you had to go through.

I curled underneath my heavy duvet, as I hugged my legs towards my chest. My head pounded along with my heavy heart beat, as it laid gently on two, feathered pillows. My entire body ached, even pain killers couldn't ease the pain. A violent cough suddenly erupted, as it burned my throat, making me silently whimper. Snot threatened to leak from my nostrils, as I would either sniff it back up, or whip it on my used sleeve.

Out of all the days I could have felt this way, it had to be on my 18th birthday. My family had made plans for today's event, but it was suddenly cancelled, when I had bolted out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, last night. Needless to say, I was bummed and still am. However, a human beings health is far more important, than a celebration I get once a year.

A gentle knock on my wooden door shook me away from my thoughts, as it slowly creaked open. I moved my blankets away from my face as the tall figure, of my father appeared into my sights. He carried a bowl of soup and a cup of tea with him, as he made his way over towards me. He formed a weak, gentle smile, before playing the objects down upon the medicine cluttered table.

"Hey, honey. How are you feeling?" He asked, as he placed a gentle hand upon my forehead.

I closed my eyes underneath his touch. "Awful." I croaked.

Father hummed, as he removed his hand from my forehead, and took a seat gently upon my bed. He slowly helped me up, as he pulled a thermometer from his pocket. He opened up the clear case, before handing it over to me. A sigh escaped my lips, as I took it, placing it underneath my tongue.

Minutes had passed, before father gently pulled it out of my mouth. His face scrunched upwards, as he eyed the numbers on the thermometer.

"103.4." Father told, as he placed the thermometer back into the clear case.

Panic shot through my body, as he read of my temperature. Father stood up, as he approached my mother, would had just entered the room. He told her what my temperature was currently at, into which she quickly hurried towards my frail body.

"She needs to see a doctor, Chris!" My mother told, as she placed her hand upon my forehead, as well. "She became sick so suddenly. It's concerning."

Father placed a hand upon mothers shoulder. "Lets try a cold bath first, and some liquids, before we take her." He suggested.

My mother took a breath, before nodding her head in agreement. Suddenly, mother and father began to help me onto my feet. I wanted to fight it, as all I wanted to do was lay in bed and sleep, but I knew the stubbornness of my parents and the weakness from the fever, couldn't stop me. Eventually, I gave in, as father helped me to the bathroom, while mother pulled out a new change of clothing.

Father placed me upon the toilet seat, while mother placed my clothes upon the sink counter. She began to run the tub, with cold water and bubbles. Eventually, I quickly changed out of my clothing and placed myself into the cold, bubble bath. I sunk myself low, as the bubbles covered everything below my neck. Mother sat outside the tub, as she placed a cold wash cloth upon my forehead.

"I'll be right back, sweetie. I'm going to grab some medicine for you." Mother explained, as she slowly stood up and made her way out of the bathroom.