The Health Center

There's a temptation of freedom ahead. I jump up suddenly, springing out of the chair. There's a second, a brief pause where I think I've mastered it, but it doesn't last long. The room spins and fizzes out into black.  The room spins, ripping any sense of consciousness from my mind, and I fall back onto the chair. Doubled over, all I feel is pain, throbbing and penetrating. It rips through my stomach to my back, tearing with lightening edged claws. I'm dying. I'm most certainly dying.

"You ok?" I can't answer, everything's swimming. A cool hand brushes over my forehead.
"Jesus, you have a fever. Let's go." I don't remember how I got up, but soon we're outside, and the air is freezing, worse on my sweaty face and hands. She pulls me gently by the elbow to the health center, late for her own class. Once there, I start crying, blubbering, and trying explain to the nurse that I'm going to die.

Each new wave silences my mind, and there's no thoughts, just red. I'm in a bed with thin sheets, curled around a heating pad. There's toast and juice on the side table. I slip in and out of sleep. Later, as painkillers dull the sensations, my thoughts come back, vaguely blurry and confused.  How am I not dead?

I force myself up, painstakingly slowly, and shift left, letting my feet dangle over the edge of the bed. Gently, I slide into my shoes. I'm surprised that the world stays put. I make it to the rest of my classes on time, left with only a dizzy headache.