Delicate

Chapter 44

HAVEN MCQUEEN

Despite my blanket and pillow, I can feel the cold lifting from the hardwood floorboards as I quickly sit up and kneel. My hair is already up in a bun and out of my face as I throw up the minimal contents in my stomach. Non-consensual tears stream down my cheeks before I start actively crying from frustration and physical pain. I've been sick for almost two weeks now, and it's not normal. I feel as though something is seriously wrong with my entire body, but I don't do well with doctors. I'm always afraid they're going to tell me that I'm dying even though that's how I already feel.

The only food I can keep down is bland shit like crackers and rice cakes, and even drinking too much water has been nauseating somehow. Without being able to replace the nutrients that I'm losing, I feel like I really am dying. That's the only fear that has me calling my mom to confess that I am, in fact, still sick like I was over the week of Christmas and the New Year holiday.

"Hey, sugar, I was just thinking about you," she answers.

"Mom," I start crying like a stupid fucking baby, sitting against the bathroom wall with my knees to my chest. "I'm still so sick."

She gasps at the sound of my scratchy voice, no doubt. "Haven Savannah McQueen. You told me you were better when I called earlier this week! You said you weren't sick anymore!"

"I know because I thought I was getting better and I wasn't that nauseous when you called, but I was throwing up last night and I'm throwing up now, and I don't know what to do. I-I can't eat, I can't sleep, I'm just terrible. Can you come over?"

"I'm already on my way," she closes the front door behind her. "Do you still have that Gatorade I sent you home with after Christmas?"

"No, I drank them all," I sniffle and lie back down when I don't feel as though I have the strength to get up and go to the kitchen.

"Okay, well I'm just gonna stop by the store and get you some, plus the ingredients I'll need to make you some homemade chicken soup."

"Okay, thank you," I hang up and rest my phone back on the floor next to me, whimpering pathetically as I pull my blanket further up my shoulders and let myself cry at my own pity.

It's only half past eight in the morning, so I close my eyes and try to catch up on the sleep I missed last night. I fall in and out of consciousness until I hear the front door open and close, followed by my mom's voice calling out for me. She finds me in the bathroom before I can tell her that I'm in here, and she gasps as though I might as well have been murdered in cold blood.

"Haven!" She coos and crouches down to place her hand on my warm cheek. "Oh, honey, why didn't you call me sooner?"

"I don't know" I mumble and close my eyes as she pets my hair back.

"You're a little warm, but I don't think you have a fever," she sighs. "Can you please get off the floor and into bed if I help you?"

I nod weakly and force myself up slowly so that I don't get lightheaded. She helps me by holding my arms as I stand on my feet and guides me back to my bed to get under the duvet. I shiver with chattering teeth as I lie down on the cold sheets, and that's with my hoodie, sweats, and socks on. I should be plenty warm.

"I know you hate it, but I really think you need to go to the doctor, sweetheart," she raises the duvet to my chin as I lay on my back. "The flu shouldn't last this long, neither would a stomach bug or food poisoning. It must be a virus that needs treatment like antibiotics or somethin'."

She's right, I hate it and I don't want to go, but I feel helpless at this point. I've never been sick for this long in my life and it's just not normal. I'm just desperate to feel better.