the threads in her head

ooh. Sickness comes, like a great beast. Its tendrils crawl around me, going round my body, grabbing me, and tossing me around. I've been immune to it for so long, but now it finally has me, and what fun it has, juggling me around and around.

And I spin, giddy, sick. Hurting hurting and thirsty. That thirst burns in my throat. HARD. SEARING. What I would do for a drink that would soothe this aching aching dryness. It hurts so much. My throat feels so very very dry.

Thrice in a night I have woken up to get a long drag of water that is unable to soothe the dryness of my throat. The water runs down my throat, and I fell full. My stomach is bloated, and refuses anymore water. Still it aches on. Oh, it hurts to talk. Very very much. My nerves tremble with pain as air moves through it. They are silent in their protest, but their silence is deafening.

Cold. So very very cold. Sneeze. Once. Twice. Thrice. My numb brain struggles to work on. On and on. My hand struggle to write down the words. My brain tries to compose.

So very sick.