***lilly***
My arms are in pain. My chest hurts. Everything is achy. I'm not sick. I'll just have to push through the pain. Since we didn't have pyramid on Tuesday, today is going to be a long day. I feel so nauseous.
I try to stand up, and I feel vomit come up my throat or more fiery water. I quickly glance at the clock. Two in the morning. I race to the bathroom and throw up all of the water. I feel so dehydrated, and my throat is burning. How am I going to dance?
It doesn't stop and I can feel a metallic taste in my mouth. Am I getting another stomach ulcer? Or did I cut my throat? Is this even blood? Is it just a nosebleed traveling down my nose? I lick my upper lip. Nosebleed.
It doesn't stop. At some point, it becomes dry heaving. I'm exhausted, cold, and dizzy. Any moment I'm going to pass out. After what seems like forever, I force myself to stop dry heaving and I check my temperature. 101.5. Damn it. A fever.
I'm sick. I turn on but dim the lights so I don't wake Mom up. I find the Tylenol, and I take two pills. That should make me feel better. It's almost three when I walk back into the room. I've been throwing up for nearly an hour.
I immediately start softly crying. I feel so cold, yet hot, and sick. Tomorrow, or today, it's gonna be a long day. I feel so sick and worthless. I drift in and out of consciousness, my stomach cramping up, begging for something, except I can't keep it down.
I drift in and out of consciousness for the rest of the two hours, suppressing the urge to throw up. Everything hurts. I'm going to die today. As soon as it hurts five, I hear Mom get up, and I guess I have to get ready.
The Tylenol, luckily, is starting to kick in, but I stagger to the bathroom for some Motrin and Ibuprofen. I put on the same clothes and I put in the same hairstyle. Everything feels weak. I do my makeup and medicine and then tackle my cuts.
My arms are so fucked up. They're so red and if I could take it back, I would put all this mutilation, all this art, on my wrists. Oh well. Concealer and foundation to the rescue. I get a pin from Pressley as I stumble to the main room.
Press: hey lil sis how ru holding up
Lils: good
That's a total lie.
Press: will u eat today?
Lils: yes
"You're carpooling with Pressley today. Grab an Ensure," Mom instructs, and I get one from the fridge, along with all of my other stuff, and get out the door.
"Are you okay?" Mom asks as we walk down the hallway.
"I feel awful. Really sick," I answer.
Stop feeling this way, Lilliana. It's foolish.
"Did you take some Motrin, Tylenol, or Ibuprofen?" Mom asks, getting into the elevator.
"All of it and I feel a little better," I answer.
"You know where to find me," Mom ends when we walk out of the elevator.
I amble to Pressley, trying to act as little sick as possible. I sit next to her awkwardly. She knows about how I cut. I get a ping on my phone. It's Pressley. She's sitting next to me, why isn't she just talking to me?
Press: where are they?
Lils: under makeup
Press: do you how many?
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Une Fleure Fanée
Fanfiction***MATURE WARNING*** "The hunger is good. You had too many calories already. You're already fat." "They'll love you even more when you're skinny. You'll be their perfect little angel when you're nice and pretty." "Lilly, I heard you puking up the c...
