Beautifully Broken (in editing)

Chapter 5

I woke up the next morning on the tile in my bathroom, drool pooling around my mouth. My head was pounding and I sat up groggily, wondering why exactly I was here. My stomach lurched and I leaned over the toilet again, gagging and heaving. 

Oh, yeah. 

I'd come in around one in the morning last night, expecting Julie to still be up waiting for me, only to find all of the lights off. I felt really bad about our fight, but I was cold, damp, and tired from a long and emotional day, so I decided to save the apologies for the morning.

I'd trudged up the steps and opened the door as quietly as possible, removing my shoes so they wouldn't squeak across the hardwood floors. Everyone seemed to be asleep. I tiptoed towards the stairwell.

As I passed the living room, I noticed Julie asleep on the couch. Her reading glasses were tilted on her nose and her blonde hair was in a messy bun. An empty wine glass sat on the table beside her. I sighed and walked over, taking off her glasses and tossing the throw blanket over her, trying to ignore the tear tracks on her cheeks.

I made it upstairs and changed into dry clothes before crashing into my bed. 

I vaguely remembered getting up in the middle of the night feeling sick and running to the bathroom. I guess I passed out there.

I wiped my mouth and flushed the toilet, stretching. My whole body was sore from sleeping on the cold tile and I felt like death. My mind was fuzzy and my nose was dripping. I stood up slowly, gripping the towel ring for support as the room spun. 

That's the last time I hang out in a thunderstorm.

I was definitely sick. I wobbled to my bed, dragging the little trashcan from the bathroom with me, just in case. Julie and Ethan would be up soon. Weak morning light was seeping past the blinds and I snuggled down into the blankets, pulling the covers over me to block out the light. I was instantly asleep. 

The nightmares spun and whirled around in my feverish brain. They were more realistic then usual. Usually I could wake myself up, but it felt like I was being held down. My limbs were solid lead and my mind was paralyzed. I was trapped.

All I could see were visions of him and the memories I had of him. Somehow, Hayden was thrown into the mix. Blood was always there and it always hurt. My whole body hurt.

Sometimes I woke up to throwup, but other than that I slept. 

When I finally woke up for good, the sky outside of my window was dark. My throat was so dry and my lips felt cracked. I shakily pushed back the blankets and sat up weakly. There was a full cup of water on my nightstand, even though I swore I'd emptied one or two of them inbetween my dreams.

I grabbed it anyway, too thirsty to care. 

The water cooled my throat and made me feel a little stronger. Strong enough to realize my stomach was growling faintly. I pushed myself out of the bed carefully. I felt better, but I wanted to make sure I wasn't dizzy.

Trudging downstairs, the smell of cooking food made my mouth water. It didn't dawn on me that the only one besides me that could cook was Julie. I was a little too groggy to think straight and the thought of food made my stomach demand my attention.

"I'm glad to see you're awake. You weren't doing to good." Julie said in a small voice when I entered the kitchen. Her back was turned to me and she was chopping tomatoes into thin slices. Bacon was sizzling in a pan on the stove.

"Yeah, hey Julie? I just wanted to say-" She put up a hand, cutting me off, and my heart sank. She wasn't going to take my apology. I bowed my head, focusing on my toes, which were in desperate need of a pedicure.