I heard heavy footsteps stomping near. My bedroom's door swung off. I knew that was her, but I ignored. She stood at the door there for few seconds. And her grumblings broke the silence and had me stoning there in front of my books. I did not take note of anything that was flashing out of her mouth, because I did not even want to listen to her. She still went on scolding and grumbling knowing that I was not even listening to her. I stood up, switched off my computer, and sat next to her. Our eyes met. Her lips joined, finally. I told her that I was not feeling well. She left my room immediately without saying a word. I was left alone in my room, again, felt asleep eventually.
Someone's knocking on the door. I thought it was a dream, but no. I woke up reluctantly and trudged towards the door, feeling knackered and merely conscious. Her hand was holding a cup and a white plastic bag. I fell back flat on my cosy bed, back to my beauty sleep.
The next morning, I was not feeling any better. I felt like puking. I knew I was really sick. I needed medicine. I took a sip of water from the cup next to my bed and swallowed 2 panadols, and again my eyelids joined.
My stomach rumbled. I had not eaten for a day. I needed food desperately. I dragged myself to the kicthen, passed by the bathroom. She was washing the bedsheets that I had puked on last night. Without saying anything, she handed me a bowl of porridge. She knew I was hungry. She knows me.....
I am sorry for not paying much attention on you.
-
'what lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us'
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