One sneeze. Two sneezes. And another. Tissue after tissue, and I ask myself: Why am I at school? It was the sixth time I have asked myself this, and I was only in second period. But, no matter how much I sneeze, I just keep writing my daily journal in English class. Well... I try to write it. However, the drowsiness dragged me under whenever I write at least ten words.
By the time I reached third period, I realized that I could not hold on much longer. I was terribly sick. My skin and eyes burned, I had a constant sneeze and cough, and I was shaking as if I were cold. So, I found myself asking for a pass to the nurse and, soon, I was heading on home.
"Go change into your PJ's, get a thick blanket, and come downstairs," my mother told me. And I followed her directions. Oh, how I moaned and groaned with each movement. Did I mention my body ached? If one were to poke me, it would hurt.
I was stationed downstairs, in the living room, on the lounger of our L-sectional couch. And I stayed like this throughout the day. Sure, I went to the restroom a couple of times, but other than that, I did not move. And that was how it was for the next day, Saturday. However, things got more... interesting.
That Saturday morning, I refreshed myself, bathing and dressing, that whole bit. And I returned to my spot from yesterday. My mom was on watch duty for now since my dad had to go get some medicine and orange juice for me.
"C'mon, Chantel, you have to finish the rest of your soup," my mom lectured to me. No matter how much she said it, I couldn't bring myself to finish. I just couldn't. I was sold, and the darkness took my eyes as I drifted into a slumber.
"Chantel! Chantel! Wake up!" A panic-stricken voice sounded through my ears. "Michael, get back quick. She's scaring me to death!" After that exclamation, I knew that the voice was my mother. And she just kept calling my name.
After one or two attempts, I had finally woken up. When I looked to my mother, she looked both scared and upset.
"What?" I inquired, "What did I do?"
"Don't scare me like that, again," she replied. What is she taking about?
"What do you mean? What did I do? I was asleep."
"You were. But, then, you sat up and looked at me. As if you were looking through. And you were drooling."
I couldn't believe it. I simply couldn't. To the point where I asked her to explain, in detail, just exactly what happened. With all that she told me, I couldn't help but think that it was as if I were...possessed.
"You know I wouldn't intentionally scare you like that," I tried to reassure, but I was scared myself.
Should I have eaten the soup?
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