The Wolves Of Twilight

Chapter 4: Whoops

["Paul, Paul, he's our man if he can't win, great!"]

~Casey~

A few days passed, and as the week progressed, my body steadily felt like it was falling apart. My nightmares got worse; my headaches got worse, the soreness got worse, everything got worse. Something was wrong, but I was dead set on keeping things going as if everything was normal. It was the only thing I could do.

I slumped myself into one of the kitchen chairs and mindlessly picked at my muffin--my attempt to distract myself from all of my bodily problems, yet it seemed only to make me focus on them that much more.

My mom walked into the kitchen saying a cheerful "good morning," to which I didn't reply. I didn't even register that she had said anything. I was too caught up in all of my bullshit.

She turned around at my lack of response. "You okay, baby? Did you not sleep well?" She asked.

This time I did hear her. "Yeah." My voice matched how shitty I was feeling. It was getting harder to hide it.

Her eyes turned wide. "You sound awful, Casey." She walked up to me and placed her hand on my head to check my temperature. I had a chill since last night. It was similar to the one after my run in the rain a week or so ago. I felt like I was freezing. I would let out an occasional shudder ever so often, and with that, I wore two sweatshirts. Which was a difficult task all in of itself, considering the ones I chose to wear had shrunk in the dryer, at least that's what I thought. They were slightly smaller than they used to be, which was really fucking annoying and only added to my list of problems.

"Just tired, mom." I tried to reassure her.

"Oh my god, you're burning up!" She pulled her hand away quickly, staring at me with an appalled expression. It was as if I was a hot iron that had burned her. "Maybe you should stay home."

"I'm fine, mom." I couldn't stay home. The amount of anxiety I would get would crush me. I just had to stick through today and sleep for eternity when I got home.

"But Casey--"

"Mom." I could feel a twinge of anger bubble up within me. It was strange and unexplained. Sure, I was tired and cranky, but not necessarily angry. It was odd and only increased as I spoke.

"You have a fever. You shouldn't--" I cut her off.

"Mom, I'm fine."

"You'll get even worse, and you'll--" She continued.

"Mom, please." My temper was rising.

"Casey, you could--"

"Can you just drop it?!" I snapped. A surge of pain pulsated through my skull from my loud words. I winced at my outburst and held my head. I didn't mean to grouch at her like that. "I-I just . . ."