Stigma | KTH ✔

28 | Truth

Happy birthday to our angel Taehyung! ♥ The beginning of 2018 was a difficult time for our boys, but they accomplished so much this year and I honestly couldn't be more proud of them. I hope 2019 will bring them even more luck, joy and love -- just like they deserve! ♥

This chapter is a bit vulgar -- so just a heads up

It also contains alooot of dialogue..

Took me way too long to write per usual..

Anyways, enjoy! ♥ Sorry for the long wait again T-T

(Oh, a large part of this chapter will be read from another point of view ^^)

♣   ♣   ♣

The first thought that came into my mind the next day when I woke up, was that I wish that I hadn't.

My entire head was so heavy, it felt like someone had replaced my brain with concrete. My eyes felt like they were going to burst out of my sockets, and the headache from last night had only intensified -- which I didn't even think was possible. The cord from my earphones had entangled itself around my neck sometime while I was sleeping, and I catch myself lowkey wishing it had strangled me during the night.

In summary; I feel like utter shit.

The sick feeling from yesterday still lingered everywhere inside me, and I had a feeling that it wouldn't go away for a while. I let out a miserable groan, resting all my weight on my elbows as I try to very slowly heave myself up to a sitting position. My eyes are still closed since I'm afraid that everything around me is going to start spinning if I open them -- which would result in me vomiting all over my bed sheets.

My next move was to let my legs swing over the edge of the bed so I was sitting properly, which was when I finally had the courage to at least squint to become aware of my surroundings. Thankfully, my room was still rather dark so the light wouldn't burn my retinas to crisps inside my eyeballs.

Swaying my way to the bathroom, I manage to reach the sink without losing consciousness and proceed to wash my face in attempt to bring some life back into me. To avoid getting a heart-attack in midst of all this agony, I leave the bathroom without throwing a single glance at the mirror and wrap myself up in a fluffy bathrobe.

Dragging my feet across the floor, I zombie the way down to the ground floor with my eyes still half closed, and blindly navigate myself to the fridge.

"Honey, call animal planet! There's a rare species of some sorts roaming freely in our kitchen! It seems to crave the sweet juices from an orange!" I hear my dad shout after I opened the fridge and started downing cold orange juice directly from the carton, which of course intensified the throbs that are already quaking inside my head.

"Ugh Rob, that's just your daughter. And she obviously got the ugliness from her father," mom retorts after arriving to the kitchen. I take one last gulp of juice before setting the box back into the fridge and wipe my lips with the back of my hand.