Under The Ed
As the sun peeks over the horizon and sends tiny shining rays onto the small neighborhood, the eyes of a frail boy shut tight. A whimper escapes his throat, small, shaking hands covering his eyes. Legs in sweat-soaked yellow footies curl up with uncomfortable pain as the boy tries to sniff and ends up coughing harshly. "Oh dear..." He wheezes, struggling to sit up. "Curse you, microorganisms! Why must you choose to attack when Mother isn't home?" He whines, uncovering his eyes slowly. Red-rimmed, half-opened eyes lie underneath, a reminder just by looking that sickness lies in the small boy.
Sniffing now, he slowly rotates his body in the bed, setting his feet on the floor. After a minute, he stands unsteadily, pulling both hands inside his sleeves and covering his mouth to cough painfully. Shuffling across the floor to reach his desk, he puts a hand on it, leaning heavily. "Oh dear!" He rasps, his voice more froggy and gravvelly than usual. Picking up the phone, he begins to dial, but in interrupted by a rough sneeze. Whimpering, he finishes dialing, holding the phone with both hands as his knees knock together. "H-Hannah? It's Double-D...ACHOO!" A pause. "Thank you." He says gratefully before continuing. "Mother isn't home and I've fallen ill, I need your assistance." Another pause, and he smiles. "Just don't breathe and you'll be fine." He jokes feebly, nodding tiredly after another pause. "Bless you, Hannah, you're an angel! See you...ACHOO! Soon. Goodbye." He says this last a bit painfully, setting the phone down quickly and escaping back to the sanctuary of a warm bed. Shutting his eyes, he sets his aching head on the pillow with one last harsh, chest cough to send him to sleep.