I'm dying...
"Are you alright? I asked you earlier if you had motion sickness. Why didn't you take the pills?" Dameon sighed as he shook my arm.
"Stop... Huk—!" I held myself back from trying to hurl, hurriedly rummaging through the compartment of the seat in front of me for the paper bag.
It... isn't here!?
"Oh! Hold on, hold on... I think my seat has one." Dameon immediately searched through his own magazine compartment for the paper bag when the kid suddenly started wailing and kicking at my seat.
Oh God! It's making me dizzy—
*sound of vomiting*
"Ugh... Haa... I feel... a little... urk— bleeghhhh!" I hurled again, all the food from our brief lunch on the way to the airport now pooling on Dameon's lap as he chuckled with a blank expression.
"Are you... are you done...?" Dameon laughs sardonically, his eyes seemingly glazed over as I felt cold sweat trickling down my spine.
