A Day in the Life
Sharp, jagged pain rips through my head like a bolt of lightning. I sit up suddenly and clutch my head in agony. An incorporeal thumbtack pierces my eye from behind, sending malevolent flames of hate up and down my body. I fling my head left and right, up and down, back and forth, like a fish fighting it's fate at the hands of the fisherman... then everything is still once more. I wipe sweat from my brow and bring the glistening hand to my weary eyes. I am not surprised to see wet clumps of hair clinging to my fingers. I must have yanked them out while writhing again.
This is how every morning starts.
My midsection snarls at me, but I don't dare consume anything. It may be angrily vocal but it is tricking me into provoking it with food. It is dead weight within me, sloshing around inside where my stomach should be. I try to put food out of my mind as my stomach churns sullenly.
I turn to remove myself from the bed I used to sleep in... once upon a time. I glance at my desk, unfinished homework displayed on the laptop screen, and a wave of despair washes over me. Papers are haphazardly strewn around the desk, waiting for bright eyes and a clear head to read them. The mirror behind the desk doubles the stack of work, and my strained eyes blink back tears of frustration.
A vicious battle rages within me between the twin devils of head and abdomen, but if I don't medicate with caffeine soon I'll regret it. Caffeine withdrawals on top of an already raging migraine make for a poor day. I drag myself out of bed, brush unkempt hair from my face, and lurch to the kitchen. Coffee is a priority. Being warm and comfortable is a distant second.
The pain in my head effects my equilibrium and hand-eye coordination. On my way downstairs my hand misses the railing and I tumble down the first flight of stairs. My face smashes against the stairwell mirrors at an uncomfortable angle, but I seem otherwise unharmed. I lean back to gather myself and I look at my face in the mirror. Once, long ago, a friendly face would smile back at me. Now I see a worn-out husk of a woman, brunette curls each trying to escape my scalp at odd angles and tangles. My dull green eyes once shone with emerald brilliance, but pain has tarnished my beauty.
I tear my eyes away from my reflected self to ensure that I haven't broken any bones. The explosions in my skull prevent me from making a more thorough inspection, but nothing seems out of place. I'll have a few bruises, but nothing major. I shrug off the added discomfort and grumpily pull myself to my feet. Nothing compares to the torment in my skull.
With a shaking hand firmly placed on the railing, I limp downstairs; one carefully placed foot after the other. The second flight of stairs is twice the length of the first flight, making falling here more treacherous. A fall here and I might fall forever.
When I am in pain small annoyances stack up quickly which further sours my mood. My lack of...