Post by Sadie on Oct 13, 2009 14:48:28 GMT -5
A snuffle, and then a sigh.
Wally hated days like this. Days where there was a schedule all laid out and ready to be enjoyed, and yet fate seemed to be working entirely against the schedule. And especially when today was supposed to be the epitome of fun; full of video games and later the bowling alley and then ending the evening with a bowl of chocolate ice cream, slathered with toppings and syrup that was guaranteed to give the greatest of sugar rushes.
Instead, he was stuck inside his suffocating blankets, coughing and sneezing and wanting to just close his eyes and fade away into nothingness. He had originally met his sickness with anger, even throwing insults at the non-visible germs that had sabotaged him. Then he had met it with a denial, trying to crawl out of bed before finally giving up and collapsing back beneath the sheets. And finally, he was now facing it with a self-pity that made him feel like he was the unluckiest boy on the planet.
Only one thing could make the day worse.
“Wally!”
Oh. There it was.
The sing-song voice made his ears give a faint pound that hurt. If there was ever a time that he disliked the high-pitched tone of hers, it was now. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the sight of the bouncing green streak that very often barged into his room without knocking, it was just that he had rather hoped to spend the day wallowing in misery. It made it so much easier to deal with.
“Kuki,” he croaked, “go ‘way. M’sick.”
“I know, silly!” she giggled, bounding over to his bed and plopping on it, making the mattress jiggle slightly and sending Wally’s head into a fresh wave of furious pounding. Inside her hands was a mug of what he considered a steaming death-potion, as well as a book that contained a story that was probably girly beyond all belief. “I brought you stuff to make you feel better!”
“I don’t want it,” he grumbled, when suddenly a spoonful of flavorless liquid was shoved between his lips. It scalded the first layer of skin on his throat as it slithered down his throat. The small relief that it gave him by warming his stomach was completely outweighed by the complete disgusting taste that had swarmed into every taste bud that he possessed.
“Kuki!” he choked out. “M’not hungry!” Anything to get her to put the death-soup away.
Her face fell slightly, and she set the bowl aside. It was only a second before her face brightened again, and Wally knew that this could only mean more trouble for him. “I’ll read you a story!” Without waiting for an answer, she whipped open her book and began to read the first sentence, a sentence that already told him that he was going to hate this story. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess Rainbow Monkey and she lived in a very big castle by the ocean-“
“Kuki!” Wally let his head fall back on the pillow, sighing in frustration. “I really don’t want a story right now.”
Once again, her face fell in disappointment. Wally would have felt a pang of guilt, except that all he could really feel was nausea. “Oh.” She looked at her hands, which were sadly empty of any other things that might cheer up a person who was fraught with illness. “What. . . do you want right now?”
“Peace and quiet.” He emphasized each word, giving her a meaningful look. If he didn’t see her disappointed expression before, he could certainly see it now. Very slowly, she nodded and slid off his bed, before shuffling to the door. As though hoping he might change his mind, she hesitated at the doorknob, and then quietly slipped out.
The silence returned to the room. Wally tried to enjoy it, except for that annoying feeling in the back of his mind. The kind of feeling that wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut or how hard he tried to focus on the quiet. The kind of feeling that made him feel like the scum of the earth.
Finally, he gave up, and tried to raise his voice even though it cracked his throat slightly. “Kuki?”
She immediately leaped into the room, as though she had been waiting outside the door. In fact, she probably had. “Yes?”
He patted the bed beside him. “You can. . . come tell me a story. A different story,” he emphasized slightly, enjoying the way that her eyes lit up as she slid onto the bed beside him. He may have sounded a little reluctant, but when she began to spin a tale of pirates and dodgeball, he found himself thoroughly enjoying her company.
When she was finished, he was already half-asleep. Patting his hand, Kuki beamed. “You should get some sleep. Feel better, Wally!”
She was almost at the door when he croaked softly, “Kuki?”
“Yeah?” she turned around and beamed brightly at him, capturing sunshine in her smile.
“You’ll come back and tell me a story tomorrow, right?” His eyes were completely shut now, and his breathing was beginning to slow. His face was entirely peaceful.
Kuki smiled softly once more as she shut the door slowly behind her. “Of course.”
Wally hated days like this. Days where there was a schedule all laid out and ready to be enjoyed, and yet fate seemed to be working entirely against the schedule. And especially when today was supposed to be the epitome of fun; full of video games and later the bowling alley and then ending the evening with a bowl of chocolate ice cream, slathered with toppings and syrup that was guaranteed to give the greatest of sugar rushes.
Instead, he was stuck inside his suffocating blankets, coughing and sneezing and wanting to just close his eyes and fade away into nothingness. He had originally met his sickness with anger, even throwing insults at the non-visible germs that had sabotaged him. Then he had met it with a denial, trying to crawl out of bed before finally giving up and collapsing back beneath the sheets. And finally, he was now facing it with a self-pity that made him feel like he was the unluckiest boy on the planet.
Only one thing could make the day worse.
“Wally!”
Oh. There it was.
The sing-song voice made his ears give a faint pound that hurt. If there was ever a time that he disliked the high-pitched tone of hers, it was now. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the sight of the bouncing green streak that very often barged into his room without knocking, it was just that he had rather hoped to spend the day wallowing in misery. It made it so much easier to deal with.
“Kuki,” he croaked, “go ‘way. M’sick.”
“I know, silly!” she giggled, bounding over to his bed and plopping on it, making the mattress jiggle slightly and sending Wally’s head into a fresh wave of furious pounding. Inside her hands was a mug of what he considered a steaming death-potion, as well as a book that contained a story that was probably girly beyond all belief. “I brought you stuff to make you feel better!”
“I don’t want it,” he grumbled, when suddenly a spoonful of flavorless liquid was shoved between his lips. It scalded the first layer of skin on his throat as it slithered down his throat. The small relief that it gave him by warming his stomach was completely outweighed by the complete disgusting taste that had swarmed into every taste bud that he possessed.
“Kuki!” he choked out. “M’not hungry!” Anything to get her to put the death-soup away.
Her face fell slightly, and she set the bowl aside. It was only a second before her face brightened again, and Wally knew that this could only mean more trouble for him. “I’ll read you a story!” Without waiting for an answer, she whipped open her book and began to read the first sentence, a sentence that already told him that he was going to hate this story. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess Rainbow Monkey and she lived in a very big castle by the ocean-“
“Kuki!” Wally let his head fall back on the pillow, sighing in frustration. “I really don’t want a story right now.”
Once again, her face fell in disappointment. Wally would have felt a pang of guilt, except that all he could really feel was nausea. “Oh.” She looked at her hands, which were sadly empty of any other things that might cheer up a person who was fraught with illness. “What. . . do you want right now?”
“Peace and quiet.” He emphasized each word, giving her a meaningful look. If he didn’t see her disappointed expression before, he could certainly see it now. Very slowly, she nodded and slid off his bed, before shuffling to the door. As though hoping he might change his mind, she hesitated at the doorknob, and then quietly slipped out.
The silence returned to the room. Wally tried to enjoy it, except for that annoying feeling in the back of his mind. The kind of feeling that wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut or how hard he tried to focus on the quiet. The kind of feeling that made him feel like the scum of the earth.
Finally, he gave up, and tried to raise his voice even though it cracked his throat slightly. “Kuki?”
She immediately leaped into the room, as though she had been waiting outside the door. In fact, she probably had. “Yes?”
He patted the bed beside him. “You can. . . come tell me a story. A different story,” he emphasized slightly, enjoying the way that her eyes lit up as she slid onto the bed beside him. He may have sounded a little reluctant, but when she began to spin a tale of pirates and dodgeball, he found himself thoroughly enjoying her company.
When she was finished, he was already half-asleep. Patting his hand, Kuki beamed. “You should get some sleep. Feel better, Wally!”
She was almost at the door when he croaked softly, “Kuki?”
“Yeah?” she turned around and beamed brightly at him, capturing sunshine in her smile.
“You’ll come back and tell me a story tomorrow, right?” His eyes were completely shut now, and his breathing was beginning to slow. His face was entirely peaceful.
Kuki smiled softly once more as she shut the door slowly behind her. “Of course.”
