Cathy woke up to puke. She stumbled out of bed, fumbled into her bedroom door, stumbled against the stair railing, fumbled into the washroom, and collapsed over the toilet. A second later and street vendor hot dogs and sugary soda would not have been in the toilet bowl.
The sudden exposure to light made Cathy dizzy and she threw up again.
From the corner of her eyes, Cathy made out the figure of her dad. His hair was disgruntled and heavy bags clung to his eyes.
Cathy's dad got down next to Cathy, placing a reassuring hand on her back, and wiping away lingering vomit between spews. It went on forever. An endless cycle of puking, smelling the puke and puking again. Even when it felt like there was nothing left to barf, something found its way out.
Eventually all came to pass.
Cathy got to her feet, no longer feeling dizzy or as if her stomach was in a knot. The only reminder of the ill fit was a vigorous hunger and foul stench.
"I'll go make you something to eat," said Cathy's dad, "you clean up."
Such was how it went. Cathy cleaned herself off with a face towel and changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas. By the time Cathy went downstairs, her dad had a plate of crackers, cheese, and fruits prepared.
It was still dark outside. The artificial light of the kitchen kept Cathy awake and it glistened off the many photographs tacked around the kitchen.
There were photographs of all sorts of people, beasts, plants, and things of all different cultures, size, shape, and colours. Cathy's greatest pride was a selfie of herself, Honey, Buzz, and the Mute Samurai, who stood numb in his stoic manner.
"Are you sure you're alright, bud? I know you said you were but… you're sure?"
"Yes dad, I feel fine. Just hungry."
Cathy finished off her meal, and they both went back up to their beds.
In the morning, Cathy got out of bed after getting minimal sleep. With a face paler than usual, she slowly made her way downstairs. Her dad had already left to drop off her little brother at daycare before he went to work.
In the fridge Cathy found herself a lunch premade. She loaded it into her backpack, did her best to brush her fizzy mahogany hair, grabbed a quick bite to eat, and made her way outside.
Honey and Buzz were leaving the apartment at the same time. Honey was dressed in a blue golf shirt with a retail logo and black leggings with no marking, and her golden locks were held back in a braid. Even her dark skin looked pale from a sleepless night.
"Morning Cathy, how'd you sleep?"
Cathy let out a big yawn.
"Fine. You two?"
"Fit as a fiddle," said Buzz, dancing through the air.
Honey shrugged
"Could have been better. You've got anything big going on today?"
"Not really."
They convened at the end of their driveways and began to walk together. They rounded the corner before the bus stop when Cathy began to feel light headed.
Cathy nearly tripped over Honey.
"Hey, are you alright?"
Honey helped Cathy to stay on her feet, but the pale youth tried her best to gently push her away.
"I'm fine, just a little tired."
A moment later Cathy collapsed.
"Cathy!" exclaimed Buzz.
Honey barely caught her before her head could smash against the pavement. There was a faint glow that rose from Cathy's skin while sparks of smoke escaped her pores, lips, ears, and everywhere else possible.
An anguished groan escaped Cathy's unconscious lips.
"Honey…"
"I know Buzz. I know. Everything is going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright. Everything–"