Risky Woohoo

5 | Ashes To Ashes

1957, March
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"Fuck... me!" I cried out in pain. My head was about to explode, my inside were turning and flipping, leaving me to crouch over the loo.

My body jerked forward as another wave of nausea came over me. My mouth gaped open, and out came whatever I had eaten in the past two days.

I flopped backwards, laying myself on my back. I held onto my stomach in a pathetic attempt to keep it all in.

The door flung open, nearly hitting my head in the process. I looked up and saw mum crouching over me with a worried look on her face. "Are you alright?" I shook my head. She huffed and began to lift me up. "Just stay home, honey." She patted me on my back and lead me to my room.

Paul was still in there fastening his tie. His face turned from a frown of deep concentration to a blank expression of concern when he saw me coming in looking like a deceased huntchback. He watched as I fell into bed and mum tucking me in tightly. She quickly wandered off to fetch a bucket. Paul let his tie hang semi-loose so that he could kneel beside me and surprise me by grabbing my hand with both of his. I turned my head his way and knitted my eyebrows together. He didn't say anything as he scanned my face while gently rubbing the back of my hand. His pouty lips hung open as if to say something, but nothing came out.

His droopy eyes at last met mine. In there was nothing I had seen before, a worry I hadn't even seen coming from my own mum. A flu was all, I thought. A little illness that would consume my life for some amount of days, and he thought so as well. He had seen a flu before, but one much greater than that. Just a cough could turn into hellish misery. He had seen it unfold before him, in his own home. And it to happen again would completely break him. Sure this could only be a flu, but you never know, you never do truly know.

And as he grabbed the bucket to catch another downpour, he knew, that this one was to be taken care of.

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When the bell rang, Paul was the first one to get up from his desk. He sprinted down the hall, ignoring any thought of homework he might've forgotten. He leapt out of the building and passed the bus stop, wouldn't be there for another ten minutes. Down the streets he flew, panting like mad, but not daring to stop.

The door of his own home went agape merely a few minutes later. Sweat was running down his back and he was bound to take a bath later. Despite, he jogged up the stairs and nearly crashed into a sickly Annelie coming back from the loo. The girls eyes went wide at the sudden action, grabbing onto her stomach. She belched forward, turning on her heal and did what she hoped not to repeat so soon.

Paul went right after her, not really knowing what to do. He stepped beside her and grabbed a glass on the shelf above the basin, filling it up with cold water as she began calming down from the draining. She slowly raised herself from the floor, being met with Paul's hand clutching a glass of water right at her face. She happily accepted it and took a quick, short sip of it. She looked straight faced at Paul who was taking the glass from her and leading her back to the bedroom. She didn't take her eyes off him, not until she fell asleep under his watch a few minutes later.

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A note rung through my head as I slipped back to the dreadful reality of my distress. I wanted to slap a hand to my head, telling it to shut the fuck up, calm down and let me go back to sleep, but something kept me from it. Another note, a strum. And then a harsh and agonising pluck. A hiss was heard from the other bed. I slowly opened my eyes, squinting them at the slight light that was pouring in from the window, and the pain that entailed.

"Sorry." Paul softly apologised. His left hand was thrown across the strings of his guitar in an attempt to silence it. He sat hunched over the instrument at the edge of his bed. "It's alright." I said with a small grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.

I hoped he would do this. I had longed for him to sit beside me and play a tune or two. I wouldn't admit it. Instead I chose to lay there and let him play, refusing to object.

He stared at the hand that was silencing the strings, while my eyes were fixed on his face. He bit his lip, unsure if to continue to play. He really wanted to, but - Ann. Fuck it, she was awake.

"I've learned how to pick." He mumbled. My eyebrows furrowed. "Don't you do that already?" I asked with a surprisingly raspy voice. He chuckled. "Yes, but just a different sort." I smiled and prodded myself up on my elbow. "I don't know what sort." I laughed. He nodded and lifted his hand off the strings.

He placed his fingers over the strings and began plucking. First one at the top, then the three at the bottom. Whatever it was he was doing it sounded wonderful. The other hand of his danced along the fret board, or rather tumbled. But he managed to make it good. "Who'd you learn this from?" I questioned silently. His eyes flickered over the room and landed onto me. He licked his lips as his fingers stopped playing. "George." He mumbled, placing the guitar on the foot of his bed, making me pout ever so slightly.

He moved nervously towards me, kneeling beside me and moving his hand to push my shoulder back onto the matress. But I stopped him by taking a hold of his wrist. Our gazes met and he lightly gulped. "Why do you care so for me?" My voice came out shaky, sounding like I was at the last blink of tears. Which I truly wasn't. Paul pulled his hand away and moved it to rub the back of his neck. "Yer ill, Ann. Any decent person would." He stood up and grabbed the empty glass beside me. "Yes, but-" I started weekly. He looked down at me with a slightly lost look of worry. I shut my mouth and laid back onto my side, facing the wall.

I fell asleep shortly after, listening to Paul's soft steps across the wooden floors. Then mum must have come in, because I felt a hand caressing my cheek right before I drifted to the dark escape of my distress.

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I haven't puked in years

Don't think I'm entirely pleased with this (thruthfully I never really am), but oohhhhhhhhhhh wellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

[later] I must have been in some sort of trance when I wrote this because this is absolute shit.