A/N - I struggled a bit writing this chapter so it's not as well-written as previous chapters, but it's readable and not terrible. My editor was unable to edit this chapter, too, so there might be some grammar/spelling mistakes that I didn't catch in my self-edit. Enjoy the chapter!

- I've also decided after every fifth chapter (not counting the prologue), I will skip one biweekly update to give myself a break. That's why I missed the last biweekly update, and I'm back now!

When I woke up the next morning, I knew something was wrong. My throat was dry and scratchy. My head felt full of cotton, making it hurt to think. Maybe it was because of the cold outside yesterday. Maybe because I didn't wear gloves. Maybe because I ate snow. Maybe it was just my body reprimanding me for breaking my rules. Whatever the reason, I was sick. Great.

There wasn't any school today, on account of the heavy snow built up outside. Because of this, I was able to sleep in more than I typically did, and if I was still tired, I'd continue that. But despite my becoming sick, I was wide awake.

I put on my glasses and headed downstairs, not bothering to change out of my pajamas. Everyone was standing around doing their own thing, except mom who headed over to me.

"Good morning, sweetie," she said to me. She put a hand on my forehead the way parents do to check if you're temperature is warmer than usual. "Are you feeling alright?"

I didn't answer. Yesterday I broke rules, and now I had to make it clear that wasn't how it was going to be all the time from now on. I looked past moms shoulder and everyone was paying more interest in me and my well being. They must not have noticed anything was off until mom pointed it out.

Mom frowned and led me to the kitchen. Without saying a word, she handed me an apple and started looking through a cabinet with more kids medicine than I could possibly use before they expired. I took a bite of the apple.

"Carlisle, which one do I use?" mom asked. Grandpa wasn't in the room. She didn't even raise her voice to pretend he didn't have superhuman hearing.

He came into the room and did a quick assessment of my condition. I was barely even sick, I didn't need any medicine. Time would do its job, and I'd be better in the morning.

"Looks to just be her throat," he said, going to the cabinet mom was looking through. "That I can tell, at least." He grabbed a bottle with a pink liquid and brought it over to me. He poured the measurement into the cap and handed it to me. I drank it and continued eating the apple.

Once it kicked it, I did feel a bit better. I spent my time watching ice hockey on the tv with dad and coloring, until the medicine wore off and I felt even worse than before. I began feeling nauseous, so I leaned back on the couch, closed my eyes, and focused on my breathing. I took slow deep breaths, and it worked. The nausea went down. But it also unintentionally made me tired, and I fell asleep before I realized it was happening.

I woke up and everything was dark. I slept all day, and now it was night. There was a full cup of water on my bedside table. I drank it all in one gulp and fell back asleep in an instant.

When I woke up again, it was still dark. I was a little more awake than before, but I felt worse. Every sound and thought sent a pang to my head. I couldn't sit up without feeling nauseous. Even after drinking another full cup of water, my throat remained dry and scratchy. Whatever illness I had wasn't just from the cold. It may have been amplified because of it, but I must have caught it from some kid at school. Kids carried so many germs, it was crazy.

I didn't realize anyone else was in the room until I felt the freezing hand of mom helping me sit up so I could take more medicine. This one tasted different from what I took before. It was bitter and strong, and it brought along a wave of exhaustion. I fell back asleep.

Vibrant images that I couldn't make out swirled through my mind. When I woke up for a brief moment, I couldn't tell if I was still in the dream or not. I fell back asleep before I could even make out what the dream had been, let alone that I was no longer in it.

The last time I woke up before I started to get better, light filtered around the closed window blinds. I wasn't wearing my glasses, so I couldn't make out anything in my room. My throat burned, my head pounded, and I couldn't think straight. My body felt so heavy I couldn't move. I wanted to just go back to sleep, but everything was too much and I couldn't.

Nobody came in to give me water or medicine or anything. Could they not tell I was awake? I needed help, and they were the only ones around who could give it to me.

I didn't know what to do. I could barely decipher my own thoughts, no way I could act upon them. The only thing I was sure about was I felt terrible, and I wanted it to stop. How had this started as just a slight sore throat and headache? That was just a day ago, how did it get so bad so fast? I hoped it would get better just as fast as it got worse.

I needed more medicine. Something that would make me tired, or feel okay enough to fall asleep. Or I needed water to soothe my throat. Or anything at all that could help me in any way at all. No one was coming up to help me like they did before, and I didn't know why. I couldn't do it for myself, either. I had no energy. No way to care for myself.

I wasn't thinking rationally, or clearly, or with any of the sense I spent so long knocking into myself. So I did something stupid. In my scratchy, hoarse voice that was never once in this life used to say words, I called out for mom. And I didn't even realize the weight of what I had done until the next day.