19. Hurt

                                    

                                          
(Abby's point of view)
The week wasn't too bad. Pumping me full of anti nausea medication, painkillers, and electrolytes seemed to do the job. A few times, I woke up in the night and felt pretty terrible, but I just fell back asleep. I also woke up from dreams. Well, nightmares.
My nightmares started after my grandmother died. They specifically started when I had been living on top of the restaurant a few days in, way back in 2020. It was an atrocious dream, one that I thought about often. My grandmother starred in a lot of them. She kept dying, over and over, in every dream. When I met Julien, she started to show up too. Now she was the one repeatedly dying. The dreams eventually stopped. Now they only happen when I'm stressed or anxious. 
I didn't tell Julien that they came back. I didn't want to worry her. If she knew that they were happening, she would know that I was super stressed, and the whole sickness thing would become really real. I have this thing...like when you say something out loud it makes it actually real, and not just in your head. At least, it felt like that.
It would freak Julien out even more if she knew what they were about that time...
Instead of everyone else dying...I was the one dying. 
That had never happened before, and, honestly, it was really fucking terrifying. Normally, the second I woke up, I knew it was a dream. I knew that it wasn't real. But with the new dreams, it took me a few minutes to realize. I seriously thought I had died and the darkness of our bedroom was some sort of afterlife. Then I would discover Julien, and panic that she was also dead. I always thought that at least we had died together. Eventually, I'd figure it out, and manage to fall back asleep.
About a week after I started feeling sick, Julien was out. I felt a lot better. I wasn't nauseous or in pain. I was just tired, but that was my new normal. Julien was doing her weekly trip to the grocery store. I had the place to myself, and the first thing I did was go straight to the piano. All week I had been itching to play. But I needed to do it alone.
I was ready to learn "marjorie" by Taylor Swift.
In all my dreams, the song was always there. If I couldn't see it or hear it, I just knew. Maybe if I could learn the song, I would have some sort of control in the dreams. I didn't know exactly how, but anything was worth trying.
I thought it was a great idea. I thought it would do something good for myself. I thought it would make me feel better, emotionally. I thought it would help.
I was so fucking stupid for thinking that.  
I had a really hard time with sheet music. Honestly, I used YouTube to learn a lot of songs. I pulled it up on my phone and set the phone where I could see the screen. I started the video. The second the keys started, I felt uneasy. Now I wasn't very eager to learn. Now I was sort of dreading it.  
"Okay," I whispered to myself as I paused the video. "Lyrics first."
I barely needed the lyrics. Somehow, I knew a lot of them. It was embedded in my brain. But I read through it anyway, and I didn't like it. I don't know why I kept pushing myself.
I could remember the first few chords, so now I just had to practice them. I rested my fingers over the right keys, and pressed down. I actually jumped. After I gathered myself, I played it again and hummed a little. Then I sang a bit.
No. Shit, no, stop.
I couldn't do it. The music was coming from me. I was doing it, and I absolutely hated myself for that.
I shoved the piano stool back so I could jump up. I needed to get away from the piano. The second I shot up, I knew it was a mistake. My heart rate jacked up, and my head spun. I didn't sit back down, though. I would sit in the living room. But I couldn't make it to the living room. My legs were weak, and my vision was fading, along with my hearing. I tried to look at my watch to see my heart rate. Just as the last bit of my vision went, I saw some number close to 130 BPM. I put my arms out to catch myself, but it was no use. It all happened so fast.
I was unconscious before I could support or catch myself.
***
When I woke up, I wasn't alone. I could sense Dorothea somewhere close to me. It took a bit to get fully conscious. My eyes opened slowly, and after a few minutes I could move. When I was aware of my body, I winced. My left side was a little tender from the fall, but nothing hurt as much as my left arm. I pushed myself up, so I was sitting instead of lying down, with only my right hand, my left arm in my lap. I uncurled my fingers and tried to stretch out my arm. It hurt so bad I had tears in my eyes. Dorothea watched me from under the desks. That was one of her favorite spots.
"I'm okay." I told her, even though I was cringing and breathing shakily.
I scooted over to the piano stool and pulled myself onto it. I pulled my sleeve up to look at my hand. It was already swelling, and I could barely move it anymore. What the hell had I done?
I convinced myself to calm the heck down. I had rolled an ankle before. It kind of felt like that. Maybe I just did something like that? Was there such a thing as rolling a wrist? I grabbed my phone. I would see what had happened on our security cameras. We installed cameras when we got Dorothea. We had them everywhere but the bathrooms and the bedroom...for obvious reasons.
Thank God there was footage. I skipped past the piano part, and started when I panicked and stood up. I stood there, staring off into space, swaying a bit. Then I just fell. I swore I had put my arms out to stop myself, but I was still. When I fell, I landed on my left side, hard. Ah. So that was why it hurt. I just needed some ice on my hand. Then I would be fine.
I would be fine.
Julien got home shortly after all that. I didn't tell her any of what had happened, I didn't show I was in pain, and I hid my arm from her. She would make me go to the hospital and, I knew it was stupid, I really did not want to go to the hospital, even if it meant going about my day with my throbbing wrist.
"Hey," She asked me when we finished putting the groceries away. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." I lied. "Why do you ask?"
We held eye contact for a moment before she turned to put our reusable bags away. "I actually don't know. I just thought...I don't know. Nevermind."
Dorothea kept staring at me, sometimes whimpering. It was like she was trying to get me to tell Julien. I tried to ignore it, along with all the aching.
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I can't wait for "the rest" boygenius EP!!!!!!