My head's killing me.
There's a sour taste in my mouth, and my tongue feels ten times its normal size, dry and puffy. I groan, pulling the blanket over my head. Just five more minutes. Please.
But my stomach has other ideas. It rolls and churns, a warning I can't ignore. Shit.
I bolt upright, tangled in sheets. The room spins, but there's no time to steady myself. Stumbling, I lurch toward the bathroom. My feet catch on something and I nearly face-plant, but somehow make it in time.
The toilet's cold porcelain greets me as I heave. Bile burns my throat. Eyes watering, I grip the seat. Another wave hits. I retch until there's nothing left.
Gasping, I slump against the wall. My arms feel sticky. Weird. I blink, trying to focus in the dim light.
What the—
Red streaks my skin, dry and caked in some spots, glistening in others. Blood? My heart pounds. Shaking, I check myself over for wounds. Nothing. Where did it come from?
