I am SO sorry it took me so long to post this! I was having trouble with this site, then I had to visit my great-grandmother for her birthday. I hope it's worth the read. And yes, it's short. I'm sorry.
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The next day, 1:34 P.M.
Julie awoke slowly, keeping her eyes shut. She was lying on her stomach at the edge of her bed, her right arm slung over the side. For some reason, she felt sick again. Very, incredibly sick. With some difficulty, she managed to sit up in the center of the bed but did not have the strength to move any further.
"Fuck," She whispered to herself. Never before had she used that sort of language, but it just slipped out.
She knew she wasn't herself and hated that fact. But she didn't know how to go back to being her old self. Truthfully she couldn't figure out how Neil could stand to live with her. Since Marissa's death, Julie had basically cried hysterically and slept. She hadn't felt up to doing anything else and was still very upset with her daughter's sudden and tragic death. But she was going to try not to be quite as grievous as she had been the past few days.
She tried to get out of the bed, and after a few moments of this, she gave up.
"I'm better off staying in bed anyway. I'm such a horrible person. I don't even deserve to leave this room. I'm a terrible mother and my girls deserve someone more caring than I am," Julie thought bitterly.
With a sigh, Julie pulled the covers up over her head and decided that she'd just do everyone a favor and stay there.