Sequel: Take My Love

We Don't Have Forever

Pillow...Tea...Mom

My luck couldn’t be any worse than it is right now, honestly. I thought that my hangover was just sticking around….for an extra two days….until I woke up this morning and felt like absolute death. I still had class that morning so I had forced myself to go, shaking like a leaf through the whole day and sniffling and coughing so hard my throat was becoming raw. I continued to get hot and cold flashes even when I was walking through the freezing streets of the city, at times, I wanted to rip my coat off. I made it back to the apartment and had a few hours to study before my shift at the Blackhawks store. I changed and grabbed a blanket, going to the couch with my books and laptop. I started to study or at least try to as I continued to feel more and more like shit.

I sent a quick text to my mom, asking her about my symptoms. She texted me back within five minutes telling me that I probably caught the flu. I groaned, knowing that I should have gotten the flu shot like a responsible adult. I tried to keep working on my school work but my head hurt and I kept feeling uncomfortable. I couldn’t stop myself from coughing and shaking either. I hadn’t even noticed that Jon came home until I spotted him coming around the couch to stare at me.

“What do you want?” I asked, my throat raw and making my voice sound like I had swallowed a bucket of nails.

“You sound like shit, did you catch something?” He asked, crossing him arms tightly and watching me.

“I don’t know, mom thinks I have the flu…” I said, coughing again and shaking hard as I did. This was the most Jon and I had talked since Sochi but I was just not feeling well enough to be a bitch right now. Without another word, he walked over and pressed his hand against my head; looking focused then he shook his head.

“I think you have a fever…” He said, going into the kitchen and rustling around then he was talking on the phone. He came back over with my water bottle full of cold water. “You’re not going to work, you’re just gonna make yourself sicker.”

“Shut up, I can go to work.” I said, starting to cough halfway through my argument, making him hum a little and look smug.

“I already called you out of work and I called Kylee.” He said, going over to the couch and sitting, grabbing my laptop and saving my work before closing it. “You gotta rest.”

“You’re the fucking worst.” I whined, crawling up to the couch and laying down. I almost wished my mom was there, she always playing with my hair to help me fall asleep when I didn’t feel well.

“Anything you need?” He asked, looking over at him, just lying there with my blanket around my ankles as I was getting a hot flash.

“Pillow….tea….mom….” I listed off, making him chuckle at the last one before getting up and grabbing my pillow then going into the kitchen to make me some tea. I started falling asleep, I think, or my fever was making me slip out of consciousness. I heard the TV turn on and then my head being shifted and someone playing with my hair. I didn’t hear Kylee and I knew it couldn’t possibly be my mom. I could hear SportsCentre playing so I only assumed it was Jon. I was too tired from tossing and turning all night and I knew I needed to rest to feel better. I could put aside my anger for my older brother for a bit.

I would have gotten a really good nap in if it weren’t for my fever dreams scaring the shit out of me. I was in the car accident again and again and again, every time I tried to wake up, it replayed in a different way. First, I was experiencing it all over again except I was awake for it all, the accident, being pulled out of the mangled car, being brought to the hospital, being put on a ventilator, having my drainage tube inserted. I seemed to feel every jab, every pain, and every little thing. The next time, I was watching Jon talking to the police, hysterical and screaming and trying to get to me as the firefighters tore open the car to pull me out. I watched him be handcuffed and put into a squad care as I was put into the ambulance. I felt myself crying and shaking again, like I was trapped between sleep and being awake. I wanted to scream but my throat was so raw I could barely let out a whimper of pain. It reminded me of when I was coming to in the ICU, with the tube down my throat and not being able to breathe. I never want to go through that again…
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I had the stomach flu in December, worst fucking thing.

Kathryn