Shadowood- H.S

ten |10|

Song of the chapter-

Possibility- Lykke Li

Enjoy! Xx

***

As I stare at the dead bird's disfigured body placed on the porch, I feel something coming back up in my stomach. I cover my mouth as I gag and run into the restroom down the hall. My vision becomes faded as I lift the toilet seat and bend over, gagging into the toilet.

As much as my stomach wants something to reject, something to force out, nothing comes out and I stand alone, dry heaving while trying to hold my own hair back just in case something does decide to come up. The muscles in my stomach begin to grow sore as they pulse through an exhausting process.

I feel a hand being softly placed on my shoulder. "Mel?" I hear dad's voice. "Mel, are you okay?" He asks quietly.

Once my body doesn't feel repulsed and the need to gag anymore, I turn around and sit down on the floor, my back leaning against the cabinet. I nod my head and flip my hair out of my face.

Brandon comes into the bathroom carrying a glass of water. He smiles slightly and hands it to me, "here."

I gladly take the water and guzzle it down in one sip, washing down anything that still threatens to come up. "Thanks." I try to ignore the nausea unsettling in my stomach. My jaw feels loose, like it's been hanging open for a while, so I massage the sides of it with my thumb.

"I'm glad I didn't eat breakfast yet." I say, getting up from the floor. Both Brandon and my dad help me up, but both wipe their hands on their jeans right after, not bothering to be discreet about it.

"Silly neighborhood kids, I'm sorry you two had to see that," dad says as we walk out of the bathroom.

"It was kind of cool actually," Brandon says with excitement in his voice. "Can I keep it?"

I give Brandon a disgusted look. "What on earth would you do with a dead vulture?" I ask, mentally gagging at the thought of the carcass inside our house.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Hang it on my wall, maybe do an experiment with it." Dad just smiles and shakes his head, giving the "that's my boy!" look.

"You're a creature," I tell him.

"At least I'm interesting. All you ever do is read boring books and walk around the town square doing nothing," he says. "I can entertain."

"Yeah because nothing says entertainment like watching you dissect a dead bird that was torn limb from limb." My stomach churns again at the image of the vulture lying on the porch dead. Brandon just snorts and sits down on one of the bar stools.

"You guys want me to warm up your hot chocolate?" Dad asks, putting his in the microwave.

"Please," Brandon says, handing him his cup.

I turn my nose up. "I'm not really craving it anymore. I think I'm actually going to just go lie down, like on the couch."

"Okay, I'll just dump this down the drain," Dad says as he brings my cup to the sink.

I turn around and walk towards the living room, desperate to lie down on the couch. My legs seem to grow weak as I walk and I feel like I didn't get enough rest last night.

"Mel?" I hear dads voice from behind me. "You okay?"

I turn halfway around and nod my head. "I'm just going to lie down and close my eyes for a minute." I continue to walk to the couch and plop down. My eyes shut as soon my body hits the soft covering of the couch.