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◈ Vienna ◈
The day came.
The morning after.
Oh god.
I sit on the bathroom floor, laying on my back. I felt the cold stone on my arms, cooling down my burning skin. The room smelt like vomit and cleaning supplies.
I have been here all night, vomiting.
My hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and I could tell my eyes were bloodshot from the tears and no sleep. My bed clothes were pushed up to try and cool myself down without getting completely nude.
I can barely keep my eyes open, but I know once I fall asleep, I will just wake up again in the next few hours to puke again. So I decided to take a shower.
I try to stand, but get lightheaded before I even get to my knees, and fall back down. Groaning and probably having a new bruise, I stay down for a moment, feeling the sickness pooling in my stomach.
My body flies to the toilet, throwing up the little that is left in my weak body.
"Good god.." I whisper, my voice coming out raspy and barely there. I've gotten used to the vomit smell, but not the burning afterwards. I try to stand again, and this time I do, but my legs are extremely unstable. I flush the toilet and open the shower curtain, turning on the knob into a cold shower.
I strip my bed clothes, once nice and clean now drenched in sweat, and step into the freezing water. It freezes my burning skin, and I feel better all together.
I wash the grime and dirt off of my body, and wash my hair as well, then staying in the water for longer than normal, leaning against the wall as the water rushes down my body.
Long after my fingers were wrinkled, I finally turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my frame, then brushing my teeth with extra force to get the bitter taste of vomit out of my mouth.
When I open the door to the bathroom, the sky is still dark. The moon is still and is still up and shining over everything. It must have only been, maybe three o'clock in the morning?
I haven't slept much..
My clothing feels the same as I pull then on.
The dark green shirt, sleeves running down to my wrists. Running pants going all the way down in old, recolored boots, and a pair of fingerless gloves to prevent a nasty burn on my hand.
I pulled my still-wet hair into a ponytail, it barely fell down to my shoulders, but I'd be damned if I puked in my hair on the field.
