Nausea: Sequel to Warcrossed

A Desperate Phone Call and a Grilled Cheese Sandwich

I trembled as I climbed down from the loft, my legs hardly supporting my weight. My dogs were outside, probably let out by Junior, so I didn't have to go to the front door. I grabbed my phone on the way out and shuffled into our kitchen. It was a large one, with new appliances I hadn't seen before. Of course, they were replaced all the time. My father was a rich, stuck-up snob who I preferred to avoid even mentioning. I didn't know my mother, since she was always holed up in her bedroom. My older siblings weren't any better, especially not Ryan, so I grew up fending for myself. The first thing I'd learned to cook was a grilled cheese sandwich, and that was what I was doing now. My hands rummaged through the cabinets, and I cursed my parents for rearranging all the stuff in them. Finally, I found a skillet, butter and a cheese slice from the fridge, bread, a spatula, and the 'on' button for the stove. As it cooked on one side, I dialed Hercules back. He'd been the one to try and call me the last time I'd woken up.

It rang twice before he answered. It always rang twice, somehow.

"Hey, John, you holding up okay?" he asked.

"Yeah... I mean, I guess... Something weird happened."

"What's that?"

"I woke up and it's like... I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe very well, either."

"That's rough... Do you know why?"

"No. It just... happened," I replied, flipping my sandwich to the other side.

"Is it grief maybe?"

"No. It's not mental. It was... It hurt too much to be something in my head..."

"I don't know what it could be then. Do you feel okay now? Do you have a fever or anything?"

"No. I'm alright now... I'm a little shaky. Probably just... Hungry." I flipped it again, deciding I wanted it just a little darker. "I'm making food though. I just don't know what to do."

"Me either. Anything else happen?"

I didn't want to tell him about Jayce just yet, if at all. It'd cause trouble between the two, and if there was trouble, someone would probably die.

"No. Nothing else. Sorry for bugging you with it."

"You're not bugging me, John. I just wanted to make sure you were alright after all this."

"Thanks Herc. I appreciate it. I'll be fine though, honestly. Eventually, I mean. I'm gonna let you go so I can eat my sandwich."

"Alright. Call me if you need me."

"I will. Thanks."

I ended the call and turned off the stove, flipping the sandwich onto the plate. I'd do the dishes later. The cheese was warm and soothing, the ultimate comfort food. I was happy to have it and I was happy to have Hercules around. I figured I'd be okay one day. Not anytime soon, but one day.