Just My Type

Chapter 13- The Porcelain Throne Had Become My Bestfriend

Chapter 13- The Porcelain Throne Had Become My Bestfriend

When in doubt, go without. That was my motto today. It was what would keep me well. Or from throwing up if you will. I’d opted out of breakfast this morning and did the same for lunch after spending the better part of the A.M curled up on my bathroom floor holding on to the toilet like my life depended on it. Yes, the porcelain throne had become my best friend over the past eleven hours and I was iffy about leaving it behind.

It was not a pretty picture.

Not trusting my stomach, I decided to go without food today. It was my only safe bet that would insure I would not reenact the horrid events that kept me from my peaceful night’s sleep. My mom was not happy with the decision however. She claims I should at least try something light like soup or applesauce and made sure to show up in my room every hour to ask me to do so. However, every time I refused. I felt better on an empty stomach.

This virus would not bring me down. I would make sure of that. I will attend Grace’s party tonight because I was a good friend and friends don’t abandon friends.

And even though I was currently still in bed at three P.M watching reruns of Friends on my DVR didn’t mean I wasn’t getting up. I just needed a little encouragement that’s all. It’s not that easy to break away from a show that should have never ended. It was addicting to say the least.

“Olivia?” Mom called from the other side of my closed bedroom door. “Are you awake?” she asked.

Before waiting on a reply from me she opened the door and invited herself in. I groaned and muted the TV already knowing exactly what she was there for by the tray of food in her hands.

“No, I’m not awake, I’m asleep and why do you knock if you’re just going to walk in anyway? It sort of defeats the purpose doesn’t it?”

“Hi, Olivia, how do you feel? I’m good mom, thanks for checking on me. You’re welcome honey, it only because I love you. I love you to, Mom,” she said in heavy sarcasm crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t bother to hide her annoyance with me.

I ran a hand through my very messy and unmanaged hair and sighed. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m just trying to get better and you trying to force feed me every hour doesn’t help.”

“Olivia, you need to try to keep something down. You need the nutrients.” She sat the tray down beside me and my stomach turned at the sight of it.

“Mom eating makes me sick and I don’t want to throw up again. Just take it away.” I pushed the Toast and applesauce away and looked away from it and back at the TV.

“Then at least drink the Gatorade. It will help keep you hydrated and from feeling weak.”

“Fine,” I said grabbing the bottle it from the tray, “I’ll drink it.”

Suddenly I found the encouragement I needed to get out of bed and get out of my room. I pushed the cover off of me and stood up from the bed. After straightening out my wrinkled up pajamas I had changed into at some point over the last eleven hours I proceeded to the bathroom taking my drink with me.

“Where are you going?” Mom asked.

“To shower. I’m meeting Grace later,” I said as I exited the room. Mom followed behind me until I reached the bathroom door.

“You can’t go anywhere if you don’t feel well,” she shouted behind the closed door.

I sat the Gatorade on the counter then turned on the shower and waited for it to get warm. I mentally cursed my dad for telling my mom about me being sick. He just happened to be coming in from work at the same time I was up and caught me in the act of upchucking. Not my finest moment. And of course he had to go and tell my mom. She hadn’t left me alone since.