According to thousands of studies, babies can ONLY sleep to the sound of and with a fan blowing in their face.
It's me. I'm babies.
. . .
My head pounds as I'm slowly pulled away from my sleep. My body feels as though I've been ran over by a train and thrown into the propellers of a cruise ship just because my friends felt as if I hadn't died yet.
I am barely able to lift my head a few inches off of my pillow without a wave of nausea washing over me. I'm unable to stop the flow once it's started and liquid demise pours out of me. The stench is awful, the taste is even worse.
Right next to my bed, damnit. Now I have to clean it up.
Another wave of sickness crashes into me once I see the liquid of my vomit be soaked up in my carpet.
I'd rather not deal with that right now.
I truthfully couldn't even if I wanted to, for another wave of nausea comes my way and I spring out of bed to rush into the bathroom. A faint processed thought comes to mind as I begin to realize my foot is wet and luckily I'm already hunched over the toilet as that thought becomes more vivid.
Today will not be a fun day.
Due to current circumstances, I also will not be attending school today. Or possibly the rest of my life with how I'm feeling. I don't think I could stand on my own without vomiting. I'd rather not try to find that out, either.
The stench emitting from the toilet is ratchet and it only worsens my sickening state but the toilet seat is so cold and so comforting that I could care less. My head feels so heavy and I feel hot all over and being able to just rest my cheek on the cool ceramic piece sends shockwaves of pleasure through my heated and sweaty body.
I could lay here forever.
Unfortunately, forever only lasts several minutes. A harsh pound wakes me from my slumber and I scream in surprise, fear, and agony.
"Wake up, lightweight!"
"Let me stay here and mourn forever." I groan in the water of the toilet.
"Mourn what?" Jade yells from outside the door.
"My sobriety." I cry.
"Open up the door. I'll take you out for coffee," she bribes.
Despite not wanting to move from the coolness of my toilet seat, an iced coffee sounds great.
"Can you bring it to me? I don't want to get up," Rumbles from the depth of my chest.
"No. And I changed my mind about you opening the door, I can smell the monstrosity in the toilet. I'll be downstairs watching Sex in the City, meet me down there whenever you're ready."
"I thought it was Sex and the City," I heave, my words cutting off the vomit that was threatening to rush out.
"Who cares, that's nasty, I'll see you downstairs!" She rushes before I hear footsteps walk away from the door.
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Fanfiction"We'll sweet talk, play fight, and talk 27/4. We'll tell each other good morning, and goodnight everyday, and take walks together. We'll give each other nicknames. We'll hang out with each other's friends, and go on dates and talk on the phone all n...
