Hungover

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I woke up the next morning. The aching in my skull ebbed and flowed like a cold tide, yet the pain was always there. I understood at once why they called it a hangover, for it felt as if the blackest of clouds were hanging over my head with no intention of clearing, at least until late afternoon.

The hangover felt like a balloon under my cranium, slowly inflating. I dragged myself to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, just to feel something refreshing. I instantly wished I could wash my brain free of toxins too.

The mirror showed my eyes. No longer the glamour girl of last night, replaced by smudged mascara and cakey foundation. I held my mouth under the tap. The thirst stayed after each slow drink of water. It felt as if my whole mouth was made of sandpaper.  My head felt as if it might crack open at any minute while my stomach was threatening to alleviate itself off whatever I had last night.

I attempted to wash my face to clear it of make-up, it was better but the scrubbing motion made me dizzy. I clambered back into bed and pulled the duvet up over my head. I had no idea why people drank, I was clearly dying. I closed my eyes again as a  wave of nausea hit me and a violent pulse began in my temple, sleep was probably best.

I woke up that afternoon. Brooklyn was sat up next to me in bed, rubbing his eyes.

"My heads killing me." He said in a hushed tone. I put my hand on his leg, nodding slowly. I wanted to keep the talk to a minimum, avoiding any further headache. I felt my stomach flip and jumped out of bed, running to the toilet. I threw up, my head hanging over the toilet bowl.

Brooklyn appeared behind me and rubbed my back, holding my hair back.

"Alcohol does not agree with you." He joked. He left the room to get me a glass of water.

I heard the bedroom door open and close. My mum walked into the bathroom. She looked slightly concerned.

"Well you don't look good. What's the matter?" This was the perfect time to get her back.

"I'm pregnant." I said, trying best to keep a straight face. My mum's face dropped and there was a long pause.

"WhatTheFuckNow?" My mum said, without taking a breath. "That's it he's dead! I'm gonna kill him!"

"Kill who?"

"Brooklyn! That's it! I'm chopping his dick off! Where are you man whore?!"

I couldn't take it anymore. I let out the laugh I'd been holding in. I sat there, on the bathroom floor, in hysterics. My mum looked at me shaking her head.

"I...can't believe...you...believed me!" I said between laughs. My mum shook her head. It hurt my head, but that reaction made it worth it.

"That's so unfair! I should have known!" My mum moaned. She stuck her finger up at me, leaving the bathroom. Brook returned with a glass of water. I took it from him, my hand shaking slightly. I was still giggling as I took a sip from the glass.

"What is the matter with your mum? She looks like she about to kill someone..."

"Let's just say I got her back. For the prank her and Rye pulled on us a couple months back."

He shook his head at me.

"How can you be hungover and still manage to prank people?" He said, chuckling.

"It's just who I am." I said, smirking, as he helped me to my feet.

By seven at night, we had regained our strength and decided to take a walk around the gardens. Brook took me around a corner to an empty garden, lit up by fairy lights...

 Brook took me around a corner to an empty garden, lit up by fairy lights

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I took in the view. It was beautiful. Brook took a seat under the lights.

"Do you like it?" He asked.

"It's beautiful." I said, sitting on his lap. "What's the special occasion?"

"Well. Tomorrow is our last full day, so I decided to have one last moment just us two, before our beach day with your mum."

"I like the idea." I said, kissing him softly. I pulled out my phone, taking a picture of us sat together under the stars.

"One for the scrapbook?"

"Definitely."

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