The Hours We Have

chapter twenty-four

My mind refused to rest. 

I only laid down on the couch around midday during one of the boring college lectures that I had to attend, and even then my tired eyes wouldn't close. It was like my thoughts were wide awake, churning up a relentless storm in my mind, and the only thing it brought me was stress. 

Stress was like a trigger for a whole chain of events that I absolutely despised and one of them was my period. It happened often and sometimes I wondered if my body was broken, or confused about how to be normal. If I was under a lot of stress, my period would pop up days or even weeks early, and that's why I never knew when it was coming. 

A stab of pain raced through my stomach, making my breath catch for a moment, and that was the only warning I got before I was leaping off the couch. I almost threw my laptop on the coffee table, thank god I didn't have to have my camera on for this college class, and I sprinted for the downstairs bathroom. There was no way I was letting my body ruin another pair of jeans. 

Finley raced after me in a flurry of scraping claws on the hardwood floor. I didn't even close the bathroom door because I was the only one home right now, and Finley was all over me while I tried to inspect the damage. I cursed under my breath. 

I softly pushed Finley's nose away, "Stop, Fin, I'm fine," I really felt like flipping the bird to my body and mother nature, "Just gonna die for the next few hours." I mumbled under my breath. 

After I disposed and replaced yet another victim of the unexpected arrival of my worst enemy, I left the bathroom and headed straight for the kitchen cabinets. I found a half-empty bottle of painkillers, which most certainly wouldn't do, and I sighed. 

"Boys, you know?" I muttered down to Finley. He had been glued to my side, most likely sensing my pain because I had read that dogs could do that. I had actually been reading a lot of articles for being a first-time dog owner, just to make sure Finley had the best life here. "Two every four hours," I said to myself, flipping the little container in my hand, but when another wave of pain rippled through my gut, I grunted, "Three ought to do." 

I never did follow instructions, and it didn't help that my body hardly responded to painkillers. I just had to be cursed with a dysfunctional body, as if the burden of being alive wasn't enough. I retreated to the living room and curled up on the couch with a blanket. Finley jumped up with me and curled into my side, resting his head on my legs. I hated this time of the month. 

ꕥ 

I startled when I heard the front door slam against the wall. Before I could move, I heard the twins laughing as they kicked off their shoes. I sunk back into the couch with a disgruntled noise. Why did they have to be so loud? 

I realized I must have dozed off for a bit. 

Finley sprung off the couch and raced to greet the twins. "Finley!" I heard Julian say rather happily, "Did you miss me?" I would have smiled if I didn't feel like my body was killing me. I'd rather not admit how many times I considered repaying the favor with a knife from the kitchen. 

Roman appeared in the doorway. I slowly looked at him, my eyes raking his face for any obvious bruises among the fading ones, and there were none. That was progress, I suppose. 

"So?" I spoke first, quiet enough that Julian couldn't hear over his cooing at Finley. 

"I took care of it," Roman answered just as quietly, "I told you I would, they won't bother anyone."