You Make Me Sick

"Hey," Abbigale grabbed Michael's attention, "I just wanted to say thank you for doing all of this. I mean, I know it's required of you, otherwise you wouldn't get payed, but you're a really big help."

Michael smiled, making his eyes smile. "It's my pleasure, Abby." He continued gathering his things and left shortly.

Feeling significantly better over the past few days, Abbigale took this small opportunity for solitude to trude into the kitchen and make some tea for herself. She sat at the kitchen table trying desperately not to think of how much she missed Pierce. Se hadn't seen him again since he disappeared in the lake. Maybe tonight she'd thought every night over the past days. She took a sip and the warmth of it reminded her of him. Because maybe he was simply a cup of tea- comfort. But she shook her head, because Pierce was not nearly so simple. He was not a single action but an entire situation. His voice was like listening to the rain sing and his eyes shown as if sitting fireside. He was like a thick blanket wrapped around the shoulders. And, yes, a cup of tea.

"Hey Abby." Emily said from the entree way. Abbigale jumped, not realizing that Emily had even come in.

"You should learn to knock, Missy." She teased.

"You should learn to hear." She retorted, removing her scarf. "I've been knocking for a couple minutes."

They ran a few tests, everything seemed normal. As normal as health got for her, anyway. A shiver ran down her spine and immediately something went wrong. Abbigale fell from her chair and began so seize.

"Abbigale!"
___

I suppose there is no God. Surely I am deal, but I feel nothing... I see nothing.
Maybe it's better this way...
If there is no heaven and no hell then there is nothing to be scared of or disappointed with.
There was nothing, but everything prickled with the anticipation of tears.

"Abbigale?"

I have already experienced heaven...

The white walls of her hospital room were blinding, it was difficult to even open her eyes. Everything was blurred and it was as i her sockets were aching and groaning in protest to her consciousness. "Emily? Michael?"

Someone touched her hand tenderly. "I'm here." Michael cooed. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry. Everything hurts." She complained, rubbing at her eyes." I can't see, either."

Michael squeezed her shoulder, "Let me go get the doctor."