Ambrosia Riddell
My head was about to explode.
After waking up from this.. exotic dream, I found myself sitting at the edge of my bed. Holding my head in my hands did nothing for this piercing migraine, I don't know why I would ever dream of something like that, I swear to God if it was that fucking pill that made me feel this way. I was going to go back to that bar and kick her fucking face in. I could feel my own heartbeat inside my brain, it took every bit of energy just to stand up from my bed, and groggily walk to the bathroom. I winced harshly when I turned on the light, everything was sensitive. Just being on my feet hurt.
I reached over to the medicine cabinet, grabbing my ibuprofen from the shelf. I opened up the bottle quickly, dragged out four capsules and slammed the bottle on the counter. I threw the pills into my mouth and leaned over in the sink. I turned the water on, and let the water coat my cracked lips before drinking it. I swallowed the pills harshly, letting the uncomfortable feeling sink into my stomach. After opening my eyes to look at myself, I could've swore I screamed.
A bruise was on my fucking neck, a big one at that. The purplish blue marks were stained across my collarbone, I lifted a shaky hand to touch them, and they were real. I grimaced at the pain and I slowly ran my fingers over them. How did this even happen? I couldn't have gotten this yesterday have I? I don't remember even hurting myself.
The dream Ambrosia. That man in your dream.
The flooding memory of my dream came rushing through my skull, his hazel eyes piercing into my very soul. His dark hair was swept back from his face, he was carved like a god. And I felt his lips on me, hell I fucking kissed him. I had never seen that male before in my life, yet here he was in my dreams.
More like a fucking nightmare.
It was right here, I felt him right in this very spot. But how is it possible? Could I have done this to myself in my sleep? Why would I even dream of something like this? It could've been a drug side effect, it's not uncommon. It used to happen when I first started taking my fluoxetine in high school. I'm more angry at myself for taking that fucking drug in the first place, I know better than that. But even then, it doesn't prove how I got this mark. I bruise like a fucking peach, this won't go away for a while. I know that for sure.
I walked out of the bathroom and walked around to my bedside. I threw myself back underneath the covers, leaving only a small space for my eyes. I snuggled myself into the warmth, letting myself relax. If I had to sleep off this headache I'll do it. No matter how long I sleep for. I need this fucking day to myself.
-
I opened up one eye, looking out between my pillow and the room, making sure I heard that correctly. I heard a few knocks on my front door. I wasn't deeply sleeping, I was awake enough to still hear the outside world. However I didn't feel like getting up, I don't give a shit who it is. They can leave a note or something in the drop box. After letting out a breath, I closed my eye. And I snuggled back into my bed.
*Knock Knock*
Christ fucking almighty. The insomniac doesn't get to sleep today, point made.
I groaned when I lifted the sheets of my body, I didn't feel my headache anymore. But I still was stiff from sleeping in the same position. I stood up from the bed and walked over to my coat hanger, and grabbed my hoodie. I threw it over my head, tugging my hair back into the messy bun I had in from last night. I gave a quick look at myself in the hallway mirror. Shitty but presentable, and the bruise wasn't noticeable. I remembered I never took off my clothes, I was still wearing the same cotton pants I wore to the bar.
