Why to Be Afraid of Tomorrow
Part 14
I get lucky my dad isn’t at home now because if he was, it would be …. um, bad. A couple of minutes ago I measured my temperature and I’ve got almost 102 degrees. That’s bad. I'm sick to my stomach and I’m so damn cold.
I’m checking the alarm clock – it’s 6 a.m. Unfortunately, I have to go to school because of my many missed and unexcused lessons. If I didn't have to, I wouldn't go there. I’m getting up slowly and looking at the bedding. “What the fuck is it?” I’m touching it and… “It’s wet?” I found out my bedding was sweaty. “Shit,” I said confused and threw my sheet into a crowded laundry basket. I had to do my best to keep myself on my feet.
I’m coming to the schoolroom. I threw my bag next to my desk and went to David. “Hello,” he outstripped me with greeting. “Hi, Davie,” I said and kissed him softly. “So what? How do you feel? Is it better than the previous days?” David asked me, smiled and put his hands into my back pockets of my jeans. Immediately I wrapped my arms around his hips and pulled him even closer. “Well, truly, no. I feel even worse than ever before. I woke up in sweaty bedding. I don’t know what’s happening.” I said and cleared my throat. “What? That’s not okay, honey. Don’t you wanna go to the doctor, really?” David offered again the same. “No, it’s okay. I think I have certainly only lingering effects of the addiction.” I said. Ok, I wasn’t sure if it’s what I said but doctors are my mortal enemies so I did my best to not go to the medical office. “Pierre, it tortures me.” David said gloomily and looked down. “Come on, it’s ok. Come to me,” I said and pulled him the closest I could. Now David’s fondling my shoulder, my chest, my neck and… “Pierre, what is it?” ”What?” I asked by surprise, took David’s hand and looked at it.” “Not my hand, but this. You’ve got small bulge on your neck.” David said while touching it. “Oww, ouch. That hurts.” I said and closed my eyes in that moment. “I’m sorry.” David said while studying the bulge. “Let it be, David.” I said before pulling away. “No, Pie. I won’t let it be. GO to the doctor.” He told me firmly. “No, there’s no need to go.” “Pierre! You have to go.” He interrupted me. There was a silence for a heartbeat and then I spoke: “I have to go to the washroom.” I went.
There I wiped my sweaty forehead again and checked my neck. When I rinsed my face I found out exanthema on my forearm. “What is it?” I surprised and checked the small pimples. Immediately I pulled the sleeves of my shirt down in order nobody see my arm.
I’m going down the long corridor to our class. My head is spinning now. I slowed down my walking. I need to sit down… I feel cold droplets of sweat running down my forehead. I see much blurry people around me.
I tided over the long corridor. Now I’m standing in front of our class door. Everybody is staring at me like I was an idiot. I see someone’s outline in the blurred light. The outline went to me closer and closer. The outline said something – I heard only slurred speech. I tried to look into the person’s eyes but instead I fell down on the floor.
I’m looking at someone standing above me. I’m hearing some unintelligible words coming out of his mouth. I feel a few pats on my cheeks and finally I see less blurry. “Come on, Pierre,” I listened only my name. “Pierre, wake up!” The voice told again. I’m coughing. “What happ-e-ned?” I stammered with low and quiet voice. “You fell on the ground and you hit your head.” He said. Now I recognized it was David. He’s resting my head onto his lap before stroking my cheeks. “Are you okay?” He asked cautiously and worried. “Yes, it’s better.” Then he gave me some water and took me to the class.
This day was so toilsome. I was glad I stood it. I promised to David that I WILL go to the doctor next day. Truly, I’m afraid of what’s going on. What if was something wrong? Or this is the only sort of repercussions of my addiction? Who knows maybe I may have a disease my mother suffered with. No, I don’t wanna think about it.
I’m checking the alarm clock – it’s 6 a.m. Unfortunately, I have to go to school because of my many missed and unexcused lessons. If I didn't have to, I wouldn't go there. I’m getting up slowly and looking at the bedding. “What the fuck is it?” I’m touching it and… “It’s wet?” I found out my bedding was sweaty. “Shit,” I said confused and threw my sheet into a crowded laundry basket. I had to do my best to keep myself on my feet.
I’m coming to the schoolroom. I threw my bag next to my desk and went to David. “Hello,” he outstripped me with greeting. “Hi, Davie,” I said and kissed him softly. “So what? How do you feel? Is it better than the previous days?” David asked me, smiled and put his hands into my back pockets of my jeans. Immediately I wrapped my arms around his hips and pulled him even closer. “Well, truly, no. I feel even worse than ever before. I woke up in sweaty bedding. I don’t know what’s happening.” I said and cleared my throat. “What? That’s not okay, honey. Don’t you wanna go to the doctor, really?” David offered again the same. “No, it’s okay. I think I have certainly only lingering effects of the addiction.” I said. Ok, I wasn’t sure if it’s what I said but doctors are my mortal enemies so I did my best to not go to the medical office. “Pierre, it tortures me.” David said gloomily and looked down. “Come on, it’s ok. Come to me,” I said and pulled him the closest I could. Now David’s fondling my shoulder, my chest, my neck and… “Pierre, what is it?” ”What?” I asked by surprise, took David’s hand and looked at it.” “Not my hand, but this. You’ve got small bulge on your neck.” David said while touching it. “Oww, ouch. That hurts.” I said and closed my eyes in that moment. “I’m sorry.” David said while studying the bulge. “Let it be, David.” I said before pulling away. “No, Pie. I won’t let it be. GO to the doctor.” He told me firmly. “No, there’s no need to go.” “Pierre! You have to go.” He interrupted me. There was a silence for a heartbeat and then I spoke: “I have to go to the washroom.” I went.
There I wiped my sweaty forehead again and checked my neck. When I rinsed my face I found out exanthema on my forearm. “What is it?” I surprised and checked the small pimples. Immediately I pulled the sleeves of my shirt down in order nobody see my arm.
I’m going down the long corridor to our class. My head is spinning now. I slowed down my walking. I need to sit down… I feel cold droplets of sweat running down my forehead. I see much blurry people around me.
I tided over the long corridor. Now I’m standing in front of our class door. Everybody is staring at me like I was an idiot. I see someone’s outline in the blurred light. The outline went to me closer and closer. The outline said something – I heard only slurred speech. I tried to look into the person’s eyes but instead I fell down on the floor.
I’m looking at someone standing above me. I’m hearing some unintelligible words coming out of his mouth. I feel a few pats on my cheeks and finally I see less blurry. “Come on, Pierre,” I listened only my name. “Pierre, wake up!” The voice told again. I’m coughing. “What happ-e-ned?” I stammered with low and quiet voice. “You fell on the ground and you hit your head.” He said. Now I recognized it was David. He’s resting my head onto his lap before stroking my cheeks. “Are you okay?” He asked cautiously and worried. “Yes, it’s better.” Then he gave me some water and took me to the class.
This day was so toilsome. I was glad I stood it. I promised to David that I WILL go to the doctor next day. Truly, I’m afraid of what’s going on. What if was something wrong? Or this is the only sort of repercussions of my addiction? Who knows maybe I may have a disease my mother suffered with. No, I don’t wanna think about it.