Why Dont You Just Drop Dead?

15

The guys spent the next day mourning. I didnt know Joe that well. To be honest I only talked to him... Twice? Maybe three times? I was shocked, but over it. I know it sounds rude. I guess I am slightly rude.

I stop thinking and look up. Pete, for the third time this past hour, is making his solution. He presses the blender button and taps his foot. Andy is taking out his anger next door and Patrick is furiously scribbling on his page.

I stand and walk to Pete as the blender stops.

"Can I try it?" I say, a smile playing at my lips.

He looks up at me and bites on his lip.

"Please?"

"I guess so... You could get sick though?" He shrugs.

"Does it look like I care?"

I pour two glasses of his blood solution. I take one and he takes the other.

"Cheers." I clink our two glasses together.

I make quick eye contact before I start downing the whole glass. I dont think about what is in it. It burns my throat and I can feel the onions slip down my throat. It tastes like tomato sauce and onions and vodka. I gag, putting the glass on the table.

"Do you ever regret doing something?" I ask. "Because, man!"

My stomach makes an inhumane sound and the after taste starts to come through. I gag. It taste horrible, like trash. I shake my head, this isnt staying down.

"Im just... Ill..."

I run at the bathroom and wretch, throwing up the drink and my dinner into the toilet bowl. Its a bright pink colour. Why is it pink, what is so vibrant? I drop to my knees and grab my stomach. That was a stupid idea. Did I never mention that Im stupid?

"Oh shit." I whisper to myself.

My stomach lurches again and I throw up in the bowl. My throat burns more than it did going into me. Its neon green in the bowl. Im sure it shouldnt be. I rest my head on the side of the bowl. Im so stupid. Im so stupid. Im so-

"Are you okay?" Pete rests his hand on my back.

"Im stupid." I laugh.

I wipe my hand over my mouth. Pete sits down next to me and peers under my arm at my face.

"Something to tide us over, eh?"

"Yeah... Sure. I... I should tell Patrick." He mumbles.

I shrug, "is it that bad?"

Pete is gone. I laugh to myself. The urge comes again and I lean over the bowl, emptying my stomach. Its another colour, on top. The yellow makes a rainbow. Im in deep shit.

"Lacey?" Patrick shouts, rushing into the bathroom.

"Thats my name?" I reply with a chuckle.

"You didnt drink the blood solution, did you?"

"Oh, Patty, I did!"

He sighs.

"It was gross and now Im sick!"

"When youre done throwing up... Come and get me. Its going to be... Fun. Pete, you stupid cow."

Patricks feet shuffle off. I gag again but theres nothing left to throw up.

"Ill... Get you some water." Pete says, fleeing.

I stay there for another 20 minutes. I sip on the water Pete gives me and stare at the spots on the wall.

"Why would you paint spots on the wall." I whisper to myself.

"The wall is plain white?" Pete says.

"I should talk to patrick, Im seeing things."

I pull myself to my feet and grasp onto the sink. I wash my face and remove the vomit from my lips. I stagger out and onto the sofa.

"Pat. Pat am I dying? Im so stupid."

And dramatic. Dont forget dramatic.

I lean onto his shoulder and groan. Note to self, dont do stupid things. I cant help it.

"Have you started seeing things?" He asks, looking up from his book.

"Yes." I mumble.

"Soon you will pass out so..."

Patrick sticks his head back in his book.

He was right.

***

I wake up dizzy and sick. Everything is fuzzy and I let out a dry sob. Never do this again, please.

I dont open my eyes. The taste in my mouth is metalic. I notice that Im quaking and sweating and my breath is fast.

The sofa is lumpy under me and there is a breeze coming from somewhere. My stomach pulses with my heart.

"Im going to put her in your bed. Look at her, she cant sleep out here!" Someone says.

Someones hands lift me and carry me, wrapped in my blanket. I lean into their chest and they pull me towards them. My stomach pulses and I wimper.

Im so stupid. This is stupid.

Im placed on a bed, on top of the covers. Another blanket is placed on me and tucked around me. I pull it around me and make a small sound. Im not sure what it means.

"Sleep well and... Get well." I think its Pete. His voice washes over me and I feel his breath on my cheek. "Youre pale." He chuckles.

He sits at the end of the bed, I can feel the bed slope in.

I drop in and out of consciousness. Sometimes I feel better, sometimes I feel worse. Sometimes the edge of the bed is sloped in, sometimes its not.

Its stupid that I chose that day to get sick, on purpose. STUPID STUPID. The attention is probably slowly being turned to be, not the dead friend.

I wonder how long its been. I force my eyes open, its dark. I should sleep when its dark.