29 Hungover

Destiny

.

.

.

The aching in my head flows like a cold tide as flashes of memories from last night begin to playback. I don't remember much, but I do recall being so ready to drown my pain in alcohol.

It worked for a while, but now that I'm facing the aftermath, I'm not so sure if this pain was worth my temporary escape. My throat felt like sandpaper. It hurt to move.

What was I thinking?

Ugh.

Please tell me that was all just a dream.

It feels like I've been run over by a bus.

A hundred million times.

"Mom! Close the curtains, turn down the sun, do something, just make it stop!" I yell, in frustration.

I pull the fluffy, white hotel-like blanket over my head and curl up into a ball. I've never been in so much pain. And I'm in cheer. Even then I—

Wait.

Fluffy?

White?

Hotel-like?!

No, no, no.