I wake up before my alarm, not because I feel good. Because my body won't let me sleep through the night anymore.
I peel my eyes open and for a second I don't move, I stay still and wait, the way I've learned to do. I wait to see if the room spins. It doesn't, but there's a pressure behind my eyes that makes me wince.
I sit up slowly. My stomach feeling empty and tight at the same time. I press my palm to it and breathe until the nausea eases enough that I can stand upright.
I don't want to stay in my room. If I stay in my room, I'll start thinking too muc about the appointment waiting for me today.
So I shower, get dressed, pull my hair back, and head downstairs.
Margaret is already in the kitchen as always.
She glances up when she hears me and pauses like she's unsure whether to tell me to go sit down or pretend she didn't see me at all.
"Morning," I say.
"Morning, dear." Her voice is as cheerful as always.
