You Make Me Sick

"So," She started, "I'm your dream?" She said it slowly, letting it sink in. He nodded, watching her carefully. Slowly a smile crawled across her lips. She reached out and touched his shoulder, and then his face. She let her fingers linger on his stubble. "You're really real." She whispered.

She could hardly contain herself. Taking a small step backwards, Abbigale allowed herself to take him in. His green eyes were hidden a little behind his hair. She took a hand and gentally pushed it back.

He caught her hand, and just held it. Never letting his eyes leave hers.
Her breath caught in her throat, "So," She managed to muster, taking a deep breath, "Where are you from?"

"England," He said, pointedly. Was it really such an outragous question? "And yourself?"

Finally breaking the gaze that she and Pierce had been holding, she smiled
widely. "London."

He looked her up and down, and she saw something in his head click into place. "Well," he said, inquiry in his voice, "when are you from?"

And then it clicked with her, too. His strange clothes, his abnormal manner, his old toung. He wasn't from 2010. "Where I am, it's July 6th, 2010..." She let her voice fade away, as his eyes widened in surprise.

"2010," he whispered. "Thats onehundered and fourty-eight years... That isn't possible." He touched her shoulder, locking eyes with her. "Abbig-"

__________________________________________________________________

Her head felt like it was about to explode.

Letting out a scream, Abbigale fell out of bed. Rolling around on the floor holding her head, Abbigale noticed that her hair was moist and sticky. Trying to fight past the agonizing pain, she combed her fingers through her hair.

Horror stricken, Abbigale screamed yet again.

Blood.

Her hair was soaked in blood!

Abbigale just lay on the floor, shaking her head, and crying. Minutes could have passed. Hours. Days, for all she knew. Finally, Emily came into the house.

Brokoe in was more like it.

"Abbigale?" She was shouting, but to Abbigale it sounded as if she were whispering. "Abbigale!" She'd found her. Reaching down, Emily grabbed her arm in attempts to hoist her up, but the moment her fingers brushed Abbigale's arm seering pain shot through her.

Emily immediately let go of her. "Shh, shh, shh!" She was trying to calm Abbigale. "Please, Abby, you have to stop screaming. I'm going to call the doctor."

By the time the doctor arrived, Abbigale's head was feeling much better, it no longer hurt to be touhed, and she was back in bed. She'd already washed the blood out of her hair, and cleaned up. Emily noticed that the sheets, and pillow cases had blood on them too, so she brought those to the laundry room.

When he walked into the room he just looked at her. "We're going to have to work hard on this one." He stated flatly, to Emily.

Abbigale crossed her arms. "Well, duh." She said, sarcastically. "And please don't talk to me like I'm not here. I'm eighteen. Not deft."

Her doctor just walked up to her, and poked her forhead with his pointer dinger.
"What the hell?" She protested, swinging her head back slightly.

And then she passed out.