Airel - Aaron Patterson [31]
It stretched like a cat, settled down and fell asleep. I had to laugh out loud about it. I had a new friend and I was not entirely sure if I wanted one or not. I had a feeling I didn't have a choice about it. Great. More drama. Just what I needed.
Chapter XVII
My simple life of school and the occasional pizza and movie night had been turned on its head. I not only had a genuine stalker, who seemed to like killing people and mocking me with cryptic notes, but I also had a weird disease that crept up at the most unexpected times. As for everything else, well, yikes. What was I supposed to think? I was probably certifiable now. Schizophrenic.
I had a strong feeling that Dr. Gee wouldn’t find anything, no matter how many tests he ran. The new little voice in my head told me that it was all nothing. I had a feeling that all of this was simply pointing back to what was going on with my skin and those occasional intense growing pains. Now, as I looked in the mirror on a normal Tuesday morning, there was something more. It had been a week and still no change, ‘til last night.
I had been startled awake at three in the morning by the most hellacious nightmare I can ever remember having. I had a headache to end all headaches and my hair, dripping wet, tangled on my face as if I had just come up for air in the river. I couldn't for the life of me remember what the nightmare was about, and I was glad about that. I summoned the courage to get up and turn on the light in my bedroom, which instantly seemed to dispel most of my fear.
I felt really gross. Maybe my dream was about pre-season practice with the football team. Now that would be a nightmare. I shuffled to the bathroom to clean up, cool down, and try to pull myself together. I changed into my back-up pajamas: my favorite blue sweats and an old long sleeved t-shirt. They were so comfortable—but so ugly—that I didn't dare wear them unless I had no other choice.
I felt better after that, but still had a raging headache and no idea why. Grabbing a couple of Advil from the medicine cabinet, I filled the glass by the sink with water. I tossed back the tablets and took a long drink of cool water, then carried the glass into my bedroom.
When I sat down on the bed, with my feet dangling off the floor, the glass suddenly shattered in my hand. I gasped as shards dug into my hand and I dropped what was left of the glass. I was in total shock. It hit the carpet with a thump and I bit my lip to keep from screaming out in pain.
Blood ran freely from two different cuts on my palm. From the looks of them, they were deep. I started to get woozy but forced myself to keep it together. Don't pass out Ariel. You've got to stop the bleeding. In that moment I wished I had woken my mom up. I jumped up, dodging the glass on the floor, ran to the bathroom holding my bleeding left hand, and got to the sink just in time to catch the first drips. Mom would have a cow, maybe a calf too!
I turned on the cold water. It stung and I winced in pain as it flushed out the wound. Blood pooled in the sink. There were two large deep gashes in my hand; I feared I would need stitches. I pulled the largest pieces out with my fingers. There were a few that I just couldn’t get, and though I was brave, I wasn’t that brave.
I found some bandages and gauze strips under the sink, wound them around my throbbing hand, and made a bandage that looked like something out of one of Dad’s war movies. Not the best, but at three in the morning I wasn’t about to wake my parents—at least, not now that I had everything under control. I guess I just needed a stiff upper lip and time to heal.
I made sure the bathroom didn't look like I had just killed someone and went back to bed. I still don't know how I fell asleep with the rhythmic throbbing in my poor hand, or the thoughts running through my mind of what I was going to tell