Pointed Gun

You Hurt My Feelings.

Syncear

GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE. Good afternoon everything else.

Seeping faster into a pit of my own despair the very second my world cleared, was cruel of my mind. She was supposed to have my back. But instead, she held my hair while I retched internally.

That sounds about the same thing to me, stupid.

Once my sleep became nothing more but imagery and awareness broke out, my eyes forced themselves wide open. Completely unaware of the sharp pain who sat patiently waiting for me on the other side.

Agony rippled through my mouth in a short breath. A single groggy thing that broke the mold between me and whatever spiraling void I fell asleep in. Or more accurately, passed out in.

If hell became anything, it would be this headache.

Engulfed in the heavenly fluff of a bed, I discovered myself sprawled out just like I would in my very own queen-sized bed back home. But not as comfortable. And not to ignore the cloud impersonating white sheets that piled atop of my body just as a fluffy as a cloud would, I remand warm behind the wall it'd created intentionally.

My safe haven it felt like in those waking moments. Unbothered and not watched for the hell of it. Serenity wrapped tight within bed sheets. Who would've known?

Despite it though, I felt out of place and mind where I laid. Almost as if who I was wasn't how I felt at all. And to make matters worse, I didn't know anyone with these sheets.

Where the hell have I washed up?

Not much time to think, not much time to panic, I found myself gathering the strength I knew I didn't have to sit up. I had a headache, don't get me wrong. Twisting and turning like a fat man left on his back and the reach for my sandwich wasn't far at all, I forced up like my life depended on it. Because on so many levels, it did.

Stupid idea six of one hundred and one. The one was there just in case I needed an extra.

Oh God, What the hell— I interrupted my own thoughts with intense groaning. A sad sound of help and agony smashed into one as my head plopped back against the memory foam pillows as if death suddenly claimed its spot even before I could try my hand at standing.

I could just die.

This is why drinking is the most terrible decision you could possibly make kids. Don't try this at home! I'm warning you. For your body's sake.

"Alright over there?" That voice sounded from afar and the least of my expectations after last night chimed alarms in my ears. Twisting under the heat of my body blending with the glare of sun drenching from the window above the bed, I used that as my response in place of agonizing words.

He should get the idea right?

"I set some painkillers and a glass of cold water for you on the nightstand. Hope it helps."

Thank goodness that's all it took.

Thinking about those sweet pain pills and a tall ice-cold glass of water, I almost forgot the body that soaked in misery. Gosh, I didn't know where to begin. Why my head felt filled to the brim with weights and air simultaneously.