Page 136 of The Song We Lost

The room spins.

Harder this time.

I barely make it to the bathroom.

Drop to my knees.

And it hits.

Violent.

Everything comes up.

Again.

Again.

Nothing left and still my body tries.

My hands grip the edge of the toilet so hard they ache.

I hear her behind me.

A pause.

“Jesus.”

Then the door.

Opening.

Closing.

Gone.

Good.

I stay there.

Breathing.

Shaking.

My heart is racing too fast.

My skin feels hot.

Too hot.

Wrong.

What day is it?

I look at my hands.

They won’t stop.

“I don’t…” I swallow. “I don’t feel right.”