i sit up breathing slow and deep..

aware of the slight, still trembling of my limbs..

careful to part my lips slightly while exhaling.

it left a bad taste on my tongue.. that sensation i dreaded..

i noticed every detail of everything surrounding me in my little room..

on my nightstand, all of the essentials..

the empty copper cup my stepfather had handed me, full, now empty of water..
replace lost fluids..

my nearly empty baby blue glass water bottle..

a cold pack, now lukewarm to room temperature from being pressed against my feverishly warm skin.. alternating.. forehead..stomach..neck..forehead..stomach..neck..
filled with hundreds of those micro gel beads..baby blue.

a recently opened crinkly bag of Saltine crackers my mother had given me to settle my stomach that was either not favoring something i had eaten several hours before..or not favoring the lack of the food that i should have eaten..

my alarm clock, reminding me that i have to wake up soon.. work.. i thought i was sure i didn't feel like going..
my stomach turned at the thought when i entertained it..

"You think you won't feel better by then?"
my mother had asked me..
i knew that i would..

i had 2 hours to recover..to sleep...
but the 2 hours had come and gone within a slow blink..
no sleep...
but recovery and comfort had become mine at least...

sleep, recently, had never come as easily as it always had before..

the warm and comforting rain would commence soon..

my book..a quarter of the way read..my great escape..
newly discovering a gift of narration, and simultaneously hoping it wouldn't cease with finishing the book..

and my retainer that i had comically and seemingly unconsciously swiped off before the incident so that they wouldn't get ruined..
only now it had occurred to me that i hadn't removed them in attempt to protect them from stomach acids.. but to alleviate the nauseating taste lingering on my tongue..

had i been selfish?

no...now was not the time to be ******* myself..
it hardly ever was..

focusing harder..

a massage bar strong with fragrant peppermint and cinnamon, pushed as far away from my nose as possible..
placed atop my vanity just on the other side of my nightstand..

my auburn hair, disheveled yet perfectly placed amidst..

a thick, extra blanket tossed aside at the foot of my bed..
reduce the fever
i had intended..

my poorly folded shorts and socks i had removed..

my electronics in disarray beneath my writing desk..
laptop charger plugged into the wall yet unplugged from the laptop itself..
my earbuds still attached, carelessly dangling to the floor..
the DSM-5 ever-so-gently placed atop my laptop..

i was always aware of the tremendous amount of books in my room..those lived in..and those awaiting their turn to have their pages grazed and loved..

and my little dog, cozied and nestled into her reciprocally little round bed in the corner of the room..
sleeping soundly with one eye open, always protecting us both..

my bedroom door open, i could hear the distant and gentle sound of dishes clattering and soft, running water..
pots and plates and plastic cups...

my mother must have decided to wash some dishes instead of trying to rejoin my stepfather in slumber..

or had he been awake, getting ready for work?

one thing i was sure of..

i suddenly frowned, corners of my mouth turned downward..

i suddenly felt bad and sorry for waking them..

ashamed..
thought this shame had not come from an external source..
irrational..
i am getting better at this..

but i realized then that had they not cared for me, they both would not have come running up the stairs at 3:50 a.m.

they showed me during my darkest moments..mostly.

my stepfather in his warm gentle temperature-checking hand grazing across my forehead as i sat, weak on the bathroom floor..
furrow between my brows, a tear gliding down my cheek.

my mother, in the way she stayed..sat with me for an hour after
as we ruled out the etiology..
in the way her strong hands massaged my feet, for comfort..

asking for help is okay..
i reminded myself..

being vulnerable
and allowing others..
the ones with pure intentions
to see me at my best..worst..and ugliest..
and looking for the moments they show me they even still love me..

courage..
in a NEW way..
something i had to get used to..