Lucian's Kryptonite

🥀XIV🥀

Chapter 14: Dreary Senile Dreams

This scene starts off a little gruesome. Skip over it if you don't like stuff that comes naturally. I'll put a squiggle when I'm done with the horror.
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Isabelle's POV

After Lucian left, I felt awkward. I went upstairs to my room and my stomach started to feel eerie; it churned and growled, which seemed like it was upset.

I know it wasn't that time of the month, yet I was head over the toilet, vomiting to my misery. I was shaking from the aftermath & a tad frightened. Once I thought it was over, I threw up again.

This time I couldn't make it to the toilet and threw up in the sink. I looked at the vomit and vomited again, seeing the brown and red mixed with other colors such as yellow, orange, & pink. Was that blood? Oh my god!

What the hell did I eat?! I was pretty sure I walked the food off. I concluded it must've been the meds I was on. Right on time when I was beginning to panic, my mom walked in.

{~~Gruesome stuff ends here}

"Honey, what's wrong? You look a little pale," she asked, coming forward to pat me on my back.

I'd just finished cleaning the sink when I turned around to see my mom; I instantly let the tears flow.

"Mom, that was so scary. I think I threw up all sorts of things. What was in the medicine they gave me? I feel terrible."

"It'll be okay. Just drink some milk & take a fresh bath," she ruffled my hair and hugged me before she left.

In my opinion, that seemed very inconsiderate of her. Like mom, hello! I vomited blood and you're saying to drink milk and take a shower. At least panic a bit!

I shook my head and dived back into my bathroom to take a shower. After I was finished, I descended the stairs and went into the kitchen for some warm milk. I poured a cup of milk and placed it into the microwave, watching it spin for thirty seconds.

I took the milk out, poured a bit of sugar in, and drank it to my heart's delight. Drinking milk plainly was very bland and nasty, so I needed a bit of flavor. There was no way I could ever down milk by itself.

"Ahh," I said, feeling refreshed.
"I told ya," my mom said.

"Sneaking up on people is not very nice, mom," I said.

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself when I saw you watching the cup spin in the microwave like you were a little kid," she laughed.

I sighed, "How was work? How come you're not tired today?"

"It was horrible," she then frowned at my question.

Being a pharmacist, my mom would sometimes come home sad, most times tired, and other times she'd be livid. Today was one of those days where she was sad and angry.

I inquired, "What's the matter? What happened? Did someone say something to you?"

"Don't worry, sweetie. I'm just very grateful for the life I have and the life I was able to give you. Never forget that. Go to bed before it gets late," she kissed me and ascended the stairs to call it a night.

I stood there, wondering if my mom was actually okay and what happened that even I couldn't cheer her up. Was she bullied? No, couldn't be! My mom is strong. Then what could've happened? I deduced being a pharmacist sucked. Not to knock any pharmacists, but I just couldn't do it.