The Long, Winding Road

4.

Saturday, October 22nd

9 AM

The morning air is thick with the scent of coffee, and it makes my stomach twirl. I move over on my back, trying to mask the smell with my comforter. It doesn't seem to work. Instead, the feeling of aches comes into play, especially in places I didn't even know could feel them. I groan, moving my fingers to rub my eyes. Why does the world have to be so bright? The more I become awake, the more my head pounds louder, practically screaming at me.

I pop an Advil from my nightstand, swallowing it with my regret. The nausea courses through my veins, and I decide I'm going to need another. I move the bedding aside and greet the bitter morning air by dangling my legs over the bed. I sit for a moment, contemplating all that comes to mind, but the demanding tasks for today are overpowering. Soft beats of a song protrude through the cracks of my door and quiet, distant hums fill my ears. A faint smile creeps on my face at the familiar sound, but it quickly fades at the thought of the moments that happened a mere few hours ago. I resist the urge to crawl in a ball to forget the rest of the day. Today is going to happen.

I pick up pieces of random clothing that have been sprawled out across the lengths of my room, smelling them to make sure that they are alright. I throw on an outfit and look in the mirror, feeling pretty satisfied with it. I place my hair in a braid and tie it with a ball-cap.

The stairs creak as I move down them to the kitchen. "Good morning, sweetie!" Nora greets with a screech. I groan at the noise, because in my head, it's like a bomb just went off. She clicks her tongue, "Really? There was nothing else?" I presume she's addressing my Pink Floyd sweater. Always have to make a big deal out of nothing.

"I happen to have the ability to like things that don't concern everything god-like," I say as I plop myself down at the table that William is also occupying. She doesn't have a response and continues on with what she's doing. I'm honestly grateful for the silence.

I could have cooled it a smidge and cut her a break, but I'm not in that mood today.

William inches forward the Captain Crunch that already made its way to the table. I see William's empty bowl and I chuckle. I push it away when I feel the gurgles in my stomach.

He flips up the newspaper sitting on the white, fleece tablecloth. He takes the freshly warm mug, threading his fingers around the handle; his muscles relaxing as he sips slowly at his coffee. He places it down with a quiet thump.

I throw my head in my arm, trying to trap the darkness.

William snickers, "Rough night?"

I lift my head from the table, visually saying what I'm thinking.

He clicks his tongue, "Don't take it out on me."

In the end, my mind is entrapped in one thought. My foot taps the ground like a heartbeat, my leg bouncing swiftly up and down. "You can't make me go," I say sternly, gaining both of their attentions.

William chuckles, keeping his eyes glued on the paper, "Of course we can."

Nora turns from the stove twirling the spatula in her palm, " You need to go. It will be a nice change from you're, you know, you're usual routine. Heck, maybe you'll find some new friends and be a teenager for a day!"

"You can't be for real?" I cross my arms and William shifts his eyes on my rigid posture, "One—Going to that place is the exact opposite of "being a teenager." And two—I understand you have a problem with my friends, but that doesn't mean I do, so please for the love of God, lay off them for once."