"Charlie, I don't feel so good."
Azura yawned. She had been
staying at my house for ten
months. Her eyes grew weary
as she touched her temple with
a palm. Her eyes flinched at
the touch.
From recognizing my look of
worry and confusion, she replied,
"I don't know why. I feel like
I'm going to—"
And she ran inside the
bathroom; I ran after her,
holding up her hair.
"throw up," she finished. "Not a fever,
is it?" she questioned.
I touched her forehead
and shook my head.
She quickly rinsed her mouth
and as soon as she took a step.
Her head spun into woven ribbons
and she came unraveling like
a worn out sweater.
Azura, I wanted to scream.
Her eyes closed as her
head touched the ground
underneath her shivering
feet.
