I hurt all over
DEIRDRE POV
Matteo was right. The sickness did intensify. I came awake earlier feeling nauseous.
I couldn’t tell if it was the after-effect of the soup I had eaten or from the drugs I had taken, but I had emptied all the contents of my stomach, and I was still hurling.
At this rate, if I continued, I would hurl everything in my stomach into the toilet.
The aches in my body had worsened. My head was thumping as though someone was deliberately pounding it. My ears rang. It felt as if I had strings that were pulled continuously in them.
And my temperature was another thing. It had spiked higher.
“Matteo,” I groaned, gripping the toilet seat.
Where did he go, and why did he leave?
Laying on the floor, I breathed in and out through my mouth before standing quickly and dipping my head into the toilet as I felt the urge to hurl again.
When I was done, I was able to crawl to the sink. Luckily, it was sturdy enough for me to use to stand upright.
Washing my face and rinsing my mouth, I trudged back into the room.
Grabbing the walkie-talkie, I punched some random numbers. I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, but I knew one would definitely be Matteo’s.
But no matter the number I pressed, nothing worked.
“I hate this,” I grimaced, tossing the phone across the room. Then I lay on the bed for a while.
Standing up again, I climbed down from the bed, picking up the phone from the floor.
Dialing the numbers randomly once again, I glared at the screen.
“How the fuck can you give this to me without a user manual? If I die, my blood is on your hands, Matteo, because I never asked to be brought here.” I said.
“A dead woman doesn’t talk, Cara,” I heard the deep voice at the other end.
My eyes lit up, and so did my spirit. “Matteo!”
“Are you alright?” he asked.
I heard shuffling at the other end and noises. It didn’t sound like Matteo had gone exploring as I had thought. He should be in the forest right now with Vittorio. At least Vittorio was one person and didn’t have the voices of a hundred people. Also, birds do not speak.
“Where are you?” I asked, frowning even though he couldn’t see me.
“I asked you a question, Cara. You should answer me.” Matteo said.
“I am fine,” I said, then winced as I felt a prick at my side.
“That voice doesn’t sound like someone who is fine,” Matteo said.
“Well, I am Matteo. Now, do I get to know where you are?” I asked him.
I was sounding like a jealous wife right now, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to think of Matteo being with some leggy blonde, but I couldn’t help it.
Also, from the noises, I sensed he was in some kind of bar.
I hadn’t seen any leggy blonde around here; likewise, I hadn’t seen any bar. If there had been any, Leslie would have taken me there or even spoken about it.
“I am nowhere,” Matteo said.
He was trying to dodge my question. I knew him too well.
Another prick shot through me, but this time, it was from my head, and it was severe.
I groaned out loud, letting the phone fall off my hand onto the bed momentarily.
My eyes shut, and I clasped my head with both my hands.
“Are you alright, Deirdre?” Matteo asked. I heard the concern in his voice.
I wanted to deny not being right and I wanted to tell him off. At least a part of me wanted to act that way due to the jealousy that had unfurled within me.
But I didn’t.
“I’m in pain, Matteo. You promised to arrive soon, but you’ve left for almost a decade, and my body fucking hurts. My head is heavy, and I’ve been throwing up…”
“I’ll be on my way,” Matteo cut me off, and I heard the line went dead.
Rolling on the bed, I let my mind wander away from the pain until Matteo arrived. But the more my thoughts wandered, the more pain I felt.
It didn’t last long, though. It subsided a few seconds later.
I breathed out, gazing at the door, counting numbers, waiting for Matteo’s arrival.
I didn’t think he was going to show up just yet. It didn’t look like he was anywhere around the Condo.
For the second time, the pain shot through me. It was far worse than the first time.
“Just fucking kill me,” I cried.
The flu shouldn’t be as bad as this. I had never had it worse, and sometimes, with enough rest, it often went on its own.
But with this, I didn’t think anything would work. I had rested as much as I believed was needed. I had taken some drugs and even soup, which was medicinal; Leslie had told me it was.
However, it felt as though I took nothing.
Dialing the same number I did before, Matteo picked up, and I was glad I didn’t have to wait.
“How close are you?” I asked.
“Very close,” He said breathlessly.
“Is that Deirdre?” I heard Vittorio’s voice.
They were together. I felt a relieved sigh coursed through me.
“I might die,” I said.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Matteo grunted.
“My body hurts, Matteo, and I can’t feel anything anymore,” I said.
“Stop being dramatic, Deirdre. I am almost there. I’ll take you to a clinic to determine the nature of your sickness,” He said.Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.
But I wasn’t being dramatic. I shouldn’t be calling Matteo too and acting whiny, but I guess I was being pushed by the sickness.
It was true; I couldn’t feel anything. My eyes were starting to grow heavy, and the ringing in my ears had intensified.
“Deirdre, Deirdre!” I heard Matteo called on the walkie-talkie.
I tried to reply, but my voice came out in a slur instead.
“Deirdre, stay with me,” Matteo said. His voice sounded near yet so far away.
Then I saw him as he barged into the room.
“Damn it!” Matteo cursed as he sprinted towards me.
“Help me here, Vittorio!”
That was the last thing I heard before I fell unconscious.