10 Things: A Cody Simpson Fan Fiction

Sixteen

          I hated this, I really did. And I still do, for the fact. It sucks to no extent, because it’s inconvenient, sudden, exhausting, painful, disgusting. Having to puke like I’m twenty-five and pregnant when I’m just sixteen is just saddening, you know? And to know that I have a choice to stop it, yet would rather throw myself into the depths and path along the way to death is just stupid.

          I mean, right? Agree? I don’t have a choice to stop fate, but I have a choice to stop suffering this as my life goes on, but yet I’d rather not stop it.

          Sometimes I really don’t know what I’m thinking about. Like I’m mentally disabled or something. Ha.

          Flushing the toilet, I pulled out a piece of tissue from the Kleenex box before dapping my mouth lightly with it. I leaned against the bathtub for support and rested for a while, like how I do after each time I vomit.

          Truth be told, I’m disgusted with myself. I don’t know how Cody doesn’t feel that way about me; maybe it’s because he hadn’t seen me puke before.

          Well, I don’t intend to show him anyway.

          Just as I heaved a sigh, the toilet door flew open, and the only face I see… was Cody’s. He looked like he hadn’t slept for over weeks with his eyes bloodshot and dark bags under his eyes; he looked horrible. But behind all that, he looked weak, and vulnerable, and adorable, but it still killed me.

          What the hell happened to my baby?

          To say I was shocked, would be an understatement considering all I could do from how my mind is registering everything about the happening, was stare at him with my mouth pulled into a tight line and my eyes forced open very widely.

          I didn’t know what to say. Hell, I couldn’t either. What was he doing here? Why was he looking like that? What happened? What’s going on? All of these questions wouldn’t leave my head no matter how hard I tried to shrug them all off. They were etched to my brain, wow.

          Ignoring the fact that my legs felt as wobbly as jelly, I pulled myself together and mustered just sufficient energy to force myself up into a standing position. I couldn’t stand how Cody looked, it was paining my heart. I’ve never seen him in such a state before, really never. I don’t know what the world could’ve done this to him.

          That person-slash-news-slash-whatever would be a monster.

          “What happened?” I managed to croak out after clearing my phlegm-filled throat. I wanted to go near him and kiss him and give him a hug and tell him everything’s fine, but I was afraid he would push me away because he didn’t want me anywhere near him.

          And I couldn’t kiss him because my mouth was reeking with stupid puke.

          His empty grey eyes flashed with worry all of a sudden, as his fallen arms rose up and wrapped themselves around my waist. A confused me was pulled closer to him. It wasn’t a hugging kind of close, but it was just… close. Like a dancing kind of close. He was confusing me.

          But nonetheless, I couldn’t help remembering how much I had missed his gentle touch on my skin. Three days felt like months, and I’m not even exaggerating. I haven’t felt the tingles in forever, but not they’re returning, making me feel slightly happier. More importantly though, I missed him. “What happened, Cody?” I asked again, pushing him for an answer.

          He just can’t remain silent forever it was literally killing me. I’ve always hated seeing him like that, he looked like he had been crying. I thought he wasn’t going to respond me in any way at all, but I was wrong. He began shaking his head, and the longer I looked into his eyes, the more watery it became. I blinked.