eleven

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Amanda

I woke up the next morning, my head pounding. I stood up from the bed, trying to get my bearings before I walked to Josie's room to check on her.

She was still asleep in her bed, the color beginning to come back to her face.

I trudged back out into the living room, where I could hear motion coming from the kitchen.

Harry was standing over the stove cooking something, humming as he did so. He noticed me and gave me a smile.

"Good morning, kitten." He grinned, and my head was pounding so hard, my mind couldn't even process what he had just said.

"Are you... feeling okay?" He asked, his face becoming serious.

"W-why, do I look bad?" I croaked, and he looked at me carefully, as he stepped up close to me.

"You just look pale... like Josie did yesterday." He told me, and I swallowed, trying to push down the nausea that I was beginning to feel.

"Yeah," I breathed. "I don't feel so good." I sighed, taking a few steps back. Harry walked up to me and placed his hand on my forehead.

"You're feeling a bit warm." He told me, stepping back. "And you're sweating... I think you should go lay back down."

I nodded slowly, and tried to start walking back to my room. I could feel the nausea starting to creep up on me, and before I even knew what was happening, I drifted into unconsciousness.

-

When I woke up, I was back in my bed, Harry was sitting in the chair beside me.

"You're awake." He breathed, standing up.

"Um... what happened?" I asked, trying to sit up but my head was still throbbing.

"You threw up, then you passed out." He informed me, grabbing a glass of water from beside the bed. "You probably got what Josie had." He held the glass of water out for me and I took it from him.

"Where is she?"

"Eating breakfast." He spoke. "Her fevers gone down, and she said she's feeling a little bit better... so you should get some rest now."

"Okay," I sighed, settling back into the bed.

"I'll be here if you need anything." He assured, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

I sighed and tried to go back to sleep but I couldn't. The nausea was starting to go away, but my head was still killing me.

I sat up in the bed and opened the drawer in the nightstand beside me, pulling out my journal. I rested it on my lap and sat staring at it for a few minutes.

Right after everything happened with Harry's ex-wife, Jordan three years ago, I had to go see a therapist. For weeks after everything happened I just kept having this nightmare of reliving that day of what she and Patrick tried to do.

I mind kept going to what would've happened if she succeeded, or if she came back, or what would've happened if Harry had... died that day and it sent me into a really bad place that I knew I needed to get out of.

For Josie.

For Jack, even for Harry.

So I went to a therapist for a couple months, and she helped me to deal with that fear and all of those emotions. She also gave me a journal to write down my feelings in general.

She told me to write down and put my feelings into words whenever I got in a dark place, or when something bad happened, or even when something good happened. She said that writing down all of this down would help me address them and get over them.

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