Sedna's Diary

Day 6

I felt sick. I didn't dare to move for fear I would be sick. I lay there in complete misery as the day's events washed over me. "Hon, I brought you a break-" Mom gasped. "Are you okay?" I moved my parched lips, trying to talk. But I barely got a word in when a horrible thing happened. I retched repeatedly till brown-green gunk was in the purple trashcan. I moaned and fell asleep. When I woke up, there was water on the nightstand and food on the desk. I was able to make it to the desk, but it left the world spinning. I slowly took a bite.

I just don't know what's wrong! Is it a flu, fever, or some other kind of sickness? I think back to yesterday when all went wrong. The wave is swallowing me. Come to think of it, the moment the wave covered me, I started to feel nauseous. Could it have been the saltwater? Great. All this, and now my lucky pen is running out of ink. This pen was with me when I was born. It was with me when my Grandpa died. But why am I so sick? Did I drink enough salt water to make me sick? I try to walk to the desk to Google it, but the nausea intensifies, and I crawl back into bed. I am sick. I don't move for the rest of the night, only moving to direct my vomit to the trashcan.