G/t I Guess

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Winnie's head spun. She worried it would eventually spin so fast it would fall right off entirely. Spots appeared at the edge of her vision again. Why did this have to happen?

Winnie never got sick. Ever. But, on the very rare occasion she did fall ill, it always hit her right where it hurt and she could barely function. It was never anything more than that, though. Functioning. Surviving, but not accomplishing too much until she got better, which was normally a matter of a few days.

That was why, when a week and a half went by and Winnie was still in pain, she knew something was seriously wrong. It only got worse with the realization that not only had her illness lasted this long, the hurt was only increasing.

As she got up from the floor and started to crawl, her head throbbed like someone was taking a jackhammer right through her skull. Even so, she kept moving. Crawling on her hands and knees, she continued on towards her destination: a room.

She didn't care which one she ended up in anymore, she just needed to get out of these god awful stuffy walls before she suffocated. Continuing down the dark and dusty passage, she came across one of her makeshift exits, and did her best to ignore the ringing in her ears enough to focus and remember which one this was and where it led. Based on her hooks arranged on the wall and the nail in the ceiling and the pipe still a distance away, she deduced this must be the kitchen counter door.

Now for the worst part: the anticipation.

Winnie knew what she had to do, but it was risky. It was so dangerous she shouldn't have been considering it in the first place, and she wouldn't be, but given the circumstances, she really had no other choice. Her body was actively shutting down, more and more with every passing hour, and if she didn't ask for help from someone soon...

Winnie propped herself up on the wall with one forearm and steadied herself, accompanied by a deep, quivering breath.

This was practically suicide. But it was most likely death either way. This option was only slightly less so.

Winnie opened the latch and pushed lightly on the door. Light from the outside crept along the edge of it as it opened wider, and then it was all the way open, a world of intense brightness that she wasn't used to. Whatever time it was, apparently the sun was up.

She made her way through the opening and onto the freezing countertop of the human kitchen, the makeshift door shutting quietly behind her. And then she was crawling. She didn't know where or for how long but she didn't care. As horrible as it was, her only hope was that someone would find her and help her, even if the only someone around meant a human, one she borrowed from.

The surface beneath her vibrated. Soft, steady, consistent vibrations got closer, louder, more full and frightening. The bean was coming.

In her weakened state, Winnie stopped her motion forward and got to the ground, propping herself on her hands so she didn't fall forward onto her face. Spots appeared in her vision again. The vibrations kept getting closer.

She looked up in time to see her vision obscured by a skyscraper of dark cotton. Wearing a gray T-shirt, the bean walked into the kitchen slowly with a yawn, and stopped in the doorway to pause and lean onto the wall. Knowingly or not, right in front of her.

Winnie felt her skin crawl as she continued to stare up at the enormous human. He'd clearly just woken up and appeared to be in no state to take care of anything, much less a sick borrower. This did not bode well.

"What the...?" Winnie froze. Not moving her body an inch, her eyes rose slowly to look to the human's face. They hadn't moved their body an inch either, but now their head was turned and their eyes were completely trained on her.