Chapter 2: Sickness

I open my eyes reluctantly. Sadly, I was having a dream about living with my dad again. Then I woke up from the dream, and harsh reality, and a sharp pain.

"Chris! Chris! Help!" My voice is scratchy again, and I curl up into a ball, writhing in pain.

I hear him rush into the room. "Stomach?"

I nod my head, face contorting into a visage of agony. I clutch my stomach as the pain rides it's course. "M-make it stop!"

"I'm... trying..." He looks around frantically. "If only dad were here." He mutters under his breath.

The pain stops again, this time more abruptly. "Chris. Bathroom. Now." I order, and he swiftly picks me up and takes me to the restroom. I sit in front of the toilet, head hunched over it, and wretch into it. There's absolutely nothing in my stomach to throw up, so nothing comes out, but I cough and hack as my stomach violently implodes.

Once that ordeal is done, I fall back, and I'm caught by Chris.

"Am I going to die?" I ask simply.

"No. I wont let you. Not one of my patients has ever died on me."

"But... you said... I'm your first patient."

"Exactly." He says, picking me up again. "We just need to figure out what's wrong with you." He sets me on the bed again, and I pull my leg thighs to body, making me fall over. "There's a change of clothes on your bed. It's probably more comfortable than that dress." I feel around and find the clothes he's talking about. I reeeeally hope he's turned, because I wobble out of my dress. I feel what I think is a shirt, and pull one of the holes over my head, but something is wrong. The hole is way too small, and I can't put my arm through. I try though, and I end up getting it stuck.

"Uuuhhh, Chris? Help?" After a short pause, I hear him chuckle, and it morphs into a full-on laugh.

"No, I'm sorry! I'm not laughing at you! Really! It's just- pffft haha!" I try to make a mad face, but only end up laughing at myself along with him.

He violently pulls the shirt off and puts it back on the right way. My eyes open in surprise when I realize my situation. I quickly pull the over-sized shirt over my underwear. And look away. "Pants." I say to him. I KNOW I'm blushing now. Dang boys.

He puts the pants on my legs, and I pull them the rest of the way up. I come to find out the pants are actually overalls, so I pull the straps on my shoulders.

"How... How do I look?"

"Uuuuuhhhhmmmm... F-fine."

"Thanks..."

An awkward silence passes between us. Oh, great, now I'm getting complemented for someone ELSE'S body. And I'm blushing like crazy 'cause of this... stupid boy. I turn away.

"Just... go make breakfast..."

"Yeah... Okay... By the way... You look good in those."

My face curls in anger and embarrassment. I use magic to hurl the closest thing near him, at him. "Shut up! Stupid!" I hear an 'oof!', and a crash, and Chris falling to the floor. If I had any eyes, they would have widened. "Oh... I'm so sorry!" I drop to the floor and crawl to him and pick him up off the floor, putting him on my legs. "What did I hit?"

"Aw, it's nothin' just a little bump on the head." I rake my hands through his hair and feel a warm liquid. "Blood?"

"Heh, It's... Nothing... Just a bump."

"I obviously hit you pretty hard. Did I get you anywhere else?"

"No, I don't think so." I check anyways, hovering a hand over his face, then neck, then chest. I stop at his chest, though. I... just... can't stop my hand from rubbing up and down... I realize what I'm doing and immediately pull my hand away. "Ah- Uh- o-oookaay, yo-you seem to be fine! Let me take care of that bump."

I pull up a pant leg and untie the wrappings, unwrapping them.. "Hey! You're not supposed to take those off yet!"

"Just... be quiet. It's my fault you're like this. Besides, you saved my life. Right?" I begin to wrap the bandages on his head, at least, the parts that aren't covered in dried blood.

"It's not your fault."

"Shush! Just... let me do this, okay?" I gingerly tie the cloth. "How's that?"

"Good. Thanks" He starts to get up, but I push him back down.

"You need to stay here, or you''ll faint." He sighs, but obliges. He stays there, head in my lap, resting. The only sounds I hear are he and I shuffling nervously.

The moment is broken by another intense pain in my stomach. "Aaaaahhaaa!"

"Ella-ahhoo... His head thuds on the ground. Oh, great, now I've done it. The pain is back, and now there's nobody to even carry me to the bed. God, I'm stupid. I roll over in agony.

"Ahh! Help! Please! Dad! Help!" I scream for my father. I want him back so badly. I just want to see him. But I know that'll never happen. Because he IS with me. My body. A strong pair of arms picks me up. "Da-dad?"

"No, sorry." It's sounds like... He sets me on the bed.

"H-Who?"

"It's Christopher's father. I need you to try to calm your breathing." I do as he says, and the clenching on my stomach subsides faster than normal. "Is the pain gone?"

I nod. "Hm, that's what I thought. That disease is hard to go through. Terminal. But easily cured." He picks up Chris."There's no need to worry. You wont be dying anytime soon."

"Th-There's a cure?"

"Of course." He sets Chris next to me in the bed. "I see my son took good care of you. He's a good boy."

"I'm sorry, sir, I-"

"There's no need to explain, I can see it was an accident. Why, he's so clumsy, he probably tripped over his own foot, right into that chair!" He bellows out a deep, low laugh. It's so loud, it almost drowns out the sound of my stomach growling, almost.

"Hm? You must be starving! How 'bout I whip you up something in the kitchen?"

"Not if you don't want to make her more sick." It's Chris's mom. "Don't ever eat this man's cooking, dear. It's poison." The doctor laughs again.

"Aw, Is it really that bad?"

"Why do I prepare the meals again? Oh, that's right, you're clueless in the kitchen!" They both laugh even more. Chris's mother treads to us. How've you two been?" She places a hand on my head. "Sorry we had to leave you, but his patients don't wait for anybody!"

"It's okay." Chris stirs beside me.

"What happened? Ella..."

"I'm fine, really." I sit up straight.

"Oh! We brought you that wheelchair!" Chris's mom exclaims. I hear a squeaky wheel on it as it's rolled over to the bedside.

"Actually... I think I want to just lie here a little more. Is that okay?" I ask. It's just... He's so warm...

I can practically feel his mom grinning at us. "That's fine."

She begins to make breakfast, but I don't eat, because I fall back to my dreams, laying there next to Chris.

A/N: Okay, I just gotta say, It's EXTREMELY hard writing in first person for somebody who's BLIND. So if the writing's kind of lack-luster and repetitive, I'm sorry.