I step out of the bathroom, my face white and an arm wrapped around my stomach.

“Are you okay?” my mom asks.

I just threw up last night’s dinner, a mild case of the salad dressing not agreeing with me.

“Yeah,” I reply, I’m all ready feeling a million times better from the awful stomach cramps that had me paralyzed in bed, too scared to move.

“You sure?” she asks. I know I look a little pale, worse for wear.

“Yeah,” I answer again, “Everything that is suppose to hurt does.” I reply as I do a body check. My head and my side where my ovaries approximately are, are achy. Other parts are me are achy but that’s from throwing up most likely.

She huffs and walks away, knowing I’m fine.


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