Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT.
Just a quick and very short one-shot I wrote just now... trying to get back to writing again... please let me know what you think :)
If there's one thing I hate more than anything else, it's being sick. And not just like the puking sick, but any kind of sick. Right now I'm lying on my bed with two tissues shoved up my nostrils, sucking on a strepsil and trying not to move too much, because when I do, I get all shivery and feel all weird and stuff. I couldn't even breathe properly. Felt like I wasn't getting enough air. What if I'm not getting enough air and I pass out and no one knows till they check on me like way later on and then they find me all looking dead and stuff and they freak out and what if I die! Can you die from this? I gotta ask Donnie later.
The room's too bright, the bed's too lumpy 'cause there's a blanket underneath me that's all twisted up and uncomfortable and scratchy and I seriously need to pee right now. Awesome… just what I needed.
I twisted over to sit up and immediately threw a hand to my head. I hate how when I move anything I get that feeling like when you miss a step going downstairs, only you get it all over your skin from the slightest movement. It totally sucks. Sure, pretending to be sick was just fine 'cause you got all the sympathy and a nice break from whatever, and you get to sit around doing whatever all day. But now I'm really sick… really, really sick and it totally, totally sucked.
Watching TV was too loud and too bright, reading was pointless 'cause I couldn't understand stuff past the thick fog in my brain and I end up reading the same words over and over to try to make sense of it. Drawing and writing were out of the question because my hands are shaking too much and I know that whatever I write would seem amazing right now, but would totally turn into a complete piece of crap when I look at it in the future when I'm feeling better.
The worst thing though is when I go out of my room, like right now, and I can smell food being made and it knocks me sick. I mean, c'mon, is there any torture worse than this! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! I groaned and made a wobbly dash for the bathroom. I saw movement on the couch, but whoever saw me was too late. I'd already slammed the door shut and crumpled next to the toilet.
I heard footsteps approaching the door and I groaned. Probably medicine time again or something. I expected someone to knock, but no one did. Instead they started scratching the bottom of the door. I frowned and looked at the door with blurry eyes. "What are you doing?"
There was no answer, but a tiny high pitched noise. I frowned deeper and stared for a while before it finally clicked that it wasn't one of my brothers… it was Klunk! I scrambled to the door and opened it for her and she came and rubbed against my leg, purring and looking at me with her big eyes, as if to say 'what's wrong, Mikey?" I grinned and picked her up, cuddling her to me.
She always knows when I need cheering up. I dunno how… maybe she has like a special sixth sense… like spidey senses but for cats! Yeah, that's probably it. She just always knows when I'm upset and she always sticks with me when I am. I tickled behind her ears and she purred deeply and curled up in my arms. Her big fluffy tail was wrapped around my wrist and flicking slowly. I grinned and leaned against the bath to get up and wandered back to my bedroom.
Carefully climbing over the mountains of tissues and stuff, I lay down and closed my eyes, listening to her relaxing purrs and stroking her softly.
"Thanks Klunk…"
Inspired by the fact that my dog always knows when I'm sick or upset and he's always there to cheer me up, like today ^^