Im Sickened But Curious Mga Nobela at Kwento

"I have no idea what that means." "Neither do I." He studied me like I was a book written in a language he almost understood. "Can I ask you something strange?" "You can ask. I might not answer." "When's the last time you were sick?" The question caught me off guard. "What?" "Sick. Flu, cold, fever. When's the last time?"

Santino is still away, and without his presence to ground me, I have drifted into a darker place. I wake up early, the sun barely peeking through the heavy curtains. As I try to sit up, a sudden, rolling wave of nausea hits me. I lie back down, closing my eyes tight. My stomach feels like it’s being squeezed by a cold hand. I must be sick, I think to myself. The stress of the funeral, dealing with the aftermath of everything and the hours I’ve spent staring at computer screens must finally be catching up to me. I probably have a stomach bug or a touch of the flu. I tell myself I just need some tea and a few more hours of rest.

she asked, her tone shifting to curiosity. Oh no. That was dangerously close to the truth. I bit my lip nervously, twisting a strand of hair around my fingers as I scrambled for another lie. "I was sick..." "Sick?" she inquired, concern deepening her voice. "Yeah... I was sick. I've been feeling under the weather since last night. I couldn’t even take calls, I've just been rolling around in my bed." "That’s... that’s so bad. What happened?" "I don’t know. I think it’s just a stomach bug. Maybe whatever I ate last night didn’t sit well with me." I tried to cover any traces of the lie, desperate to make it sound believable.

I whispered, talking to my reflection in the bathroom glass. ′In Cancun, Asahd said I was feverish. Though I didn’t feel it.′ “It was probably due to climate change?” I muttered to myself. ′I’m not sure. I vomited in the plain. Sushi’s never made me throw up, before.′ “Or the fish wasn’t fresh like Asahd said.” ′I see no other explanation on what’s happening to me. -Go to the hospital. No. I don’t wanna ruin our last days by going to the hospital and maybe discovering that I actually am ill...′

Am I sick or is it something else? Oh God!

“You already have, but I’m assuming there’s another?” “Yes,” I said, taking a tentative but firm step closer to her desk. “It’s… a study question.” Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. “You came here to ask me a study question?” “Yes,” I said. “Well, I guess I admire your dedication, then. Go on.” I inhaled deeply, choosing my phrasing. “I’m reading up on the next chapter of bacterial infections for Irene’s class. And I was studying the signs and symptoms.” She nodded, patient. I went on. “And I’m… I’m just confused. Some bacterial infections have… very similar symptoms and signs.”

What! ""Are you sick?"" ""Why are you asking me if I was sick or not? Do I look like, I'm sick?"" ""You're giving me a different vibe. Your supposed to be a pain in the ass but what you look like now is different."" ""How the hell, you are capable of saying such a vulgar things Infront of your boss while having a lunch? Do you have any brain or just a simple living dirt?"" ""Like I said, you're not sick. Why the hell your bad side, assembly as I ask if you're okay or not!""

"Well, I do not know what is wrong but I have just thrown up this morning and I feel dizzy and weak." I supplied. Their eyes widened with excitement and amazement much to my chagrin. Did it sound good to them that I was sick? "What, does is excite you that I am sick? What is with the look?" I asked as I looked from one woman to the other. They shook their heads to debunk the accusations. "We are not excited that you are sick, my lady. We are only excited about what this ailment of yours might mean. It is good news!"

she asks. “I don’t know,” I reply and rub my burning throat. “A lot.” “I couldn’t find much about Cambion illnesses in my books,” she says. I lean over to look between the two front seats at a box of books at Lucille’s feet. “The only time you get sick is when you deplete your energy…or you’re cursed. Have you been cursed?” “How would I know if someone cursed me?” Monty and Lucille exchange a glance I don’t much care for. “There is a chance you won't,” Lucille says.

My eyes darted sideways, trying to recall the time I fell sick, but I couldn't—because not once have I fallen sick. Even when a contagious sickness swept through my school and every single person was infected... I remained untouched. I have watched a lot of people, including my mom, fall sick, but not once have I fallen sick. My mom has never spent a dime on medicines for my sake. "I... I've never fallen sick," I admitted softly. "Not even once?" he pressed on. I slowly nodded my head as I wondered why he was asking such a question. "Isn't it concerning? Every human gets sick—at least once in their life. But you... you’ve never even caught a cold. Don’t you find that... suspicious?" he asked