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At 112 degrees
At 101 degrees
I lay on my back sweaty and out of breath. Attempting to check the time, I crustily turned my head.
“3:32…B: g7…..12: DIG”
It was no use. Time hadn’t decided yet if she wanted to be even or odd.
Words or numbers. Helpful or Cynical.
Laughing I turned my head back towards my ceiling amused by her sense of humor. From this angle the continual war of the paint chips endured.
I stared back at Teddy worried, waiting to see his input on this battle.
“Don’t be alarmed my queen, this only becomes habit for them.”
Habits. Habits that destroy each other.
The paint chips continued for each other’s throats.
103 degrees
My pillow case grew soggy from crying. Always trying to make a scene, there was never really any muse to her madness.
“Girl, why do you insist to cry so much?” I asked.
She didn’t respond as if I had offended her in any way.
“Girl?”
As I said that my laptop began vigorously yelling at me.
“YOU DON’T KNOW WHY?! IT IS OBVIOUS WITH THE RETORAS AT THE GATE……AND YOU SITTING HERE WAITING FOR……DON’T BE SURPRISED IF THEY!!”
Her voice trailed off as another picked up, the wall clock this time:
“SHE HAS NEVER BEEN WITH THE….TO BE AS DENSE AS THE…”
I began to tune in and tune out, I did not really care how they felt.
Their feelings were completely in accurate to the situation.
Now both of them, screaming with rage, it was near impossible to feel Teddy’s sympathy for me at this point. With every word my brain grew more pierced.
103 degrees
I attempted to regain consciousness on what had just taking precedence.
I had one the most vigorous game of tic-tac-to with Teddy!
I laughed uncontrollably as he sat there in awe at my happiness.
The clock began to sing.
She sang and sang the same old tune.
“Don’t be still, be amazing! Her touch will be hazy! Your quivers won’t allow you to see!”
How joyful? Such a beautiful tune, it all added up now as to why she didn’t laugh with us.
She was too happy in her own world!
*cough* *quiver*
We all choired in now:
“Don’t be still be amazing. Her touch will be hazy! But your quivers won’t allow you to see!”
101 degrees
My mother had just walked through. She stared and stared and stared. My mountain of white had her stunned in place.
“Momma,”
She didn’t look.
“Momma,”
Had she gone deaf?
“MOMMA!!!!!”
She walked out the room.
“Teddy, why is she unresponsive?”
Teddy touched my head, with cold plush, and held my head to a cold glass of water.
“It’ll be alright Q it’ll be just fine.”
At 107
My skin bubbled and tingled. I licked my lips that were cover in faults. Never had I tasted anything as divine as that.
I licked my lips again. Like to Bunsen burners that reciprocated steam with each drop of saliva.
The steam rose up and formed a cloud of my face.
Teddy, My ever so tuneful clock, the still left alive paint chips, my crude laptop, and The Impatient wall clock, grew scarce.
They ran away with everything they had.
My eyes seeped something foreign.
Heavily they quivered, their little whispers became cries.
If they could hide they would.
*Lick*Cough*Shake*
At 110 degrees
The cloud of steam remained immovable.
She waited there like a sty to the ceiling.
“Oh the poor ceiling. How are you doing babe?”
He had been through everything, a battle, a concert, and now a trespassing pest lay in the way of his happiness.
“Oh I’m doing alright. Still holding up.”
BUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
That humor that gets me at least every day now.
As the ceiling remained patient others did not.
There was a dull roar of movement around me.
At moments I felt sharp pains in my chest, cold things on my chest. Where my head had been was replaced by red grip marks.
No one had been touching me!!!
“Teddy!!” Teddy!!”
I needed her more than ever now.
The cloud began to shift around the room, as is moving through thick syrup.
With every gliding motion my stomach churned with agonizing pain.
“What’s happening..?”
I whimpered to myself.
110. 5 degrees
That steam moved faster and faster, forcing streams of color to pulsate from my mouth.
Tasted like sugar.
*shake*sweat*cry*
111. 85 degrees
My surroundings are black. That crust which kept my head in place thickened and stiffened.
“Eyes please don’t be..”
*Hackle*Cough*Moan*
“..be scared this only some bad air.”
The ruckus within my room shaken and I felt as if every distant sound allowed me to feel their intent.
My mind couldn’t stop mumbling something to the affect of:
“…you…and….Teddy…are you aware…..fever……brain…is……you are…..not….But then theyre the ones….
Look you see…..heat…..pain.”
“What are you trying to sa-“
She cut me off.
“….YOURE NOT OKAY!!! PAIN AND AHHH AND PAIN AND AHHHH!”
She went on like this for ages.
Pillow Case had dissolved herself from all the tears.
The Comforter was next; Pillow cases tears became contagious to the rest of my bed.
It made me laugh.
More than laugh, hell I was balling at their weakness!!
The ruckus grew louder, my brain would not calm down.
How could I take care of these babies?
Still on my back the ceiling looked so much more uncomfortable than I.
He had to hold all this madness, and contain himself.
Ahhh.
* *
At 111.85 degrees
The steam cloud left behind a puddle of colour next to my bed, and a painful tone in the room.
My brain could not feel at ease for she had seen the unseen.
Why so dramatic, you never see Teddy act like that!
My words just seeped from my mind. I didn’t have to say anything or move and actions were being taken. The dull roar of movement turned into a twister of ugly and cinder around me.
Grip marks have covered my body.
But I was alone.
There was no one there. No Teddy to keep me sane.
And at that very moment a harsh silence hit the void.
Silence. Pure nothing was everything I heard.
“1033, 1034, 1035, 1036..”
You should star at one I heard from the corner.
So I didn’t.
Stiffly I attempted to look at the traumatized thermometer that had been here to witness it’s all.
She whispered her time:
“112, that’s all.”
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Growing up ive gotten really sick and quite frequently too, we all go through this i believe. But one morning I began to become nonsensical due to a high fever (which didnt last very long) but I really wanted to try to fit those emotions that came over me into this, through the perspective of someone who has become terribly sick.