or something to wrap up in. There was a thin purple comforter at the end of the couch, and I curled up in it. Aching everywhere by then, not just my arm, it felt like a poisonous viper was inside of me, traveling through my veins at a rapid rate and burning everything in its path. I worried about the baby.
Blush returned, holding a bottle of nutrient water and a small red pill. “Here.” She held out the pill and water to me. It’s an antibiotic. It’ll fight infection.” She shot a stern look at me. “And it won’t hurt the baby.”
I tried to prop myself up, but the intense pain clamped my body back to the couch as if a wrecking ball had swung from the ceiling, hitting me with full force. “Are you sure?” I croaked.
Blush knelt by me, propping me up with a pillow. “Yeah, I’m sure. Now drink up.”
By that point I had become so irritable that I imagined my hands around her neck. There was a piece of me that knew Blush was trying to help me, but that portion was small and buried deep beneath the earth. I was having a difficult time digging it up.
“Quit bossing me around,” I barked at her, my voice hoarse and raw. “Besides, how would you know?” I asked suspiciously. I had already consumed champagne and the brandy I took from the apartment. None of that could have been good for the baby. I didn’t want to add medicine to the list…chances were pretty high that the baby would be born with S.L.A.G., anyway.
“Pan went to med school. He’s a doctor.”
The words came out a whisper of pain. “Who is Pan?”
“Another…friend. He’ll be here soon. He always leaves us with a supply of medicine. For emergencies just like this.” Blush awkwardly patted my head.
I shot her a nasty look for good measure, took the pill with my icy hand, and croaked, “I’m not a dog.” I gulped down the pill with a small swallow that felt like acid was burning its way to my stomach. It hurt so badly, I wanted to scream, but by then I was so tired I didn’t have the energy. My stomach gurgled, and then I became hot, almost violently swishing the blanket off my body.
I laid back onto the couch, thinking that death might be a better option. I had never felt so sick in my life.
“You need to eat. A little broth would be good for you.” Blush surveyed me with concern, folding her plain eyebrows downward. “Do you think you could hold some down…for the baby?” Like a cold front had moved into the tiny room, I started shivering again and pulled the blanket up to my chin, wrapping myself into a tight cocoon.
Food was the last thing I wanted, but there was something different about Blush, and I relented. As harsh as Blush had always been, she seemed to be softer now that she knew I was pregnant. It was as though it was her personal mission to save the baby. I nodded my head, feeling the hammers inside of it pounding ruthlessly away, watching with dull eyes as she scurried out of the room.
Garment sashayed in just then, clapping his hands. The lights flashed on and then off. Then back on. “Oh, daarling…” He stopped mid-sentence, mid-clap. “You look terrible. What did Blush do to you?”
My teeth were chattering. “N...n…noth…ing.”
He sat down beside me and took my hand in his. His long fingers were warm to the touch. “Are you well enough to make a plan, little one?”
I nodded my head, even though I couldn’t think beyond surviving the next few moments that savagely crept up on me with painful, bone crunching awareness. I pulled the blanket tighter around my body, if that was even possible. My hair hung limply in my eyes, but I was too tired to push it away.
“Good. Here’s what I’m thinking. You need to rest up for a few weeks.” He scrunched his eyebrows downward while patting my legs, which felt like he was blasting sharp rocks on them. I pulled myself into a different position. “How far along do you
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley