These Last Moments

Chapter 2 ~> Important Family Meetings

May 30th 2015 ~><~ 2 Weeks

I didn't hit the floor hard. On my way down, grabbing the air, I caught hold of the corner of a bath towel, bringing it, myself and the towel rack crashing to the floor. Rather than attempt to stand myself up while the world was spinning around me like a carousel on crack, I stay on the floor, probably completely still, only to me it felt like the floor was slipping out from underneath me.

"What in the bloody hell happened here?" Exclaims a voice from above me. I look up to the figure standing shakily in the doorway, hovering over me.  "Also, you have a giant red mark on your forehead." I put one hand to my head and feel the tender skin, which is likely going to form into a beautiful purple bruise. Aaliyah grasps the other and helps me to my feet, steadying me as I stand.
"Thanks." I say. "I have no idea what just happened." I steady myself on the bench top, Aaliyah lets go. "Everything just went wheeeee- *pshh*" I twirl my index finger to demonstrate.

"Well by the state of this bathroom it was a real big wheee pshh." She says, referring to the towel rail on the floor and the toilet rolls scattered across the floor. "You alright? Do you want some water or an aspirin or something?'

I shake my head no.

"No, no I'm not, I just-" My sentence is interrupted by a nauseating feeling welling in my stomach, and the back of my throat begins to throb. "- I just." My mouth starts salivating. "I'm going to be sick" I say, before throwing myself toward the toilet bowl and start retching.
"Oh my god." Aaliyah exclaims, "You're actually really sick alrighty then." She says, obviously discomforted by my vomiting. She pulls away from the door, covering her nose with the back of her hand. "I'll tell mom you're like, unwell."

When I'm done spewing my life's worth into the toilet bowl, I have a splitting headache. I flush the mess and wipe my face on a the back of my hand. 

"Well fuck me." I exclaim, coughing, pulling away from the toilet. I sit against the wall, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Standing, I spit the horrible taste from my mouth and rinse with a capful of mouthwash. The light coming in from the frosted glass window stings my eyes as I fumble through the contents of the overhead bathroom cabinet for some pain killers. I pop 3 from the foil and swallow them with a mouthful of nasty faucet water. Looking into the mirror, I look like shit. My hair's a mess, luckily it was in a bun or it would be slick with vomit and toilet water. My shirt is crumpled with one side falling off my shoulder.  I guess it's time for a shower. 

After the shower, thankfully for me, the painkillers had kicked in and the dizzy spell had subsided. I redress into new clothes, brush my hair and tie it again. I still look like i'd been dragged through hell, but at least I didn't smell like dead things anymore.

By the time I actually make it to the living room, it's been nearly an hour. Mom and Marie are the only ones in the room. Mom reading a magazine, Marie playing with a Barbie on the sofa. Aaliyah must be in her room, I concluded after hearing her talking to someone when I walked past a few moments earlier. Dad is on the phone outside again.
"Emily!" My mother exclaims, standing and walking towards me to give me a hug. "Aaliyah told me you were sick." She says, holding my shoulders. "Are you feeling alright now?" She asks, putting the back of her hand to my forehead.
"Yeah I'm feeling a lot better now, I took some ibuprofen. And a shower." I say, knowing that if I don't look at least 99%, she would rush me to the hospital as if I were near death.
"That's good,  you don't seem to have a fever." She takes her hand away from my head. "Did you want me to take you to see a doctor? We can go now."
"It's okay mom, i'm fine. Probably just a stomach bug." I assure, not exactly sure if that was the truth. "Thanks for caring."
"Always." she smiles. "I'll go get your father, and your sister. That girl, always disappearing to her bedroom. Even on a beautiful day like this!" She exclaims, gesturing to the blue sky outside of the window.

A few minutes later, and the entire family have congregated in the sitting room. Mom and dad sit on the sofa adjacent from my sisters and I, almost like a lecture section.
"So, would you like to enlighten us on why we're all here?" Aaliyah says with her usual sass after a slightly awkward moment of silence. Mom rests her head on her hand, and ushers to dad to speak. He runs his hands down his thighs and looks at all of us.
"Well, kids. I have something to tell you." He says after a while, leaning in closer to us.
We all give him concerned looks, to which he replies: "It's nothing bad, there's no need for those looks."
"Please say you're not having another kid." Aaliyah says.
"No, we aren't having a baby. That shop is closed." Mom adds. Dad agrees, even though he would like to have a son, they're getting old and by the time the kid is 15 they'll be nearly at pension age. "I have to go back overseas for work.'
"Again?" I ask. Dad had only returned from his last trip a month ago.
"But daddy! You just got back!" Marie whines, clearly upset. "You can't go again!"
"I know darling, but it will only be for a few weeks." He says, embracing her in a hug. "I'm going to Dubai. I would bring you all, but you have school this week and it's coming into summer so it will be stinking hot." He consoles, Marie now sitting on his lap.
"Your father promised to bring you all things back from his trip, so write a list or whatever you kids do." Mom says.
Aaliyah and I exchange glances and roll our eyes. The good thing about dad going away, we get whatever we want as well as more peace and quiet. The bad thing about him going away, mom trying to run the household on her own. Dad tends to keep her calm, keep her leashed so she doesn't helicopter us like she used to when we were kids. With him away, mom takes on all the responsibilities, which she can handle well on her own, but she tends to go a little *grr*. At least she's okay with Jackson staying the night. She loves him to pieces, dad too, but dad being a dad keeps close reins. And reminds Jackson every day that he keeps a shotgun in the wardrobe. 
"When do you leave, dad?" I ask, sitting up.
"I'm leaving on Wednesday. I'll be back early July, just in time for the 4th."
"I'm sure we'll survive. Can I go now?" Aaliyah asks, standing and ready to leave.
"Of course you can sweetie." Dad replies with a smile, Marie still curled up on his lap like an infant.
"I think I'm going to lie down, I'm feeling a little tired." I say. "Thanks for letting us know." I hug him, and in turn, Marie.

I go back up into my room, where I had left my phone. I flop onto the bed, phone in hand, after closing the curtains to return the room to a comfortable darkness. Jackson texted, 26 minutes ago. I'm yet to tell him of my ~incident~.

                       Jacky Boii 😏❤️
I might be over a bit earlier, your dad texted me and asked me to help him move some things out of your garage. See you in a little while :))

I smile, replying to his message with heart emojis and kisses. I roll over into the middle of the bed, askew sheets wrapping around my torso. I admire the collage of photos of us above my headboard, illuminated by the overhead lamp until I fall asleep.