Little hope

In the old house, I was so sick I could barely crawl to the toilet.  I puked in a old bucket used for when the roof leaked.  I drank straight from the tap before leaving the bathroom after each bout of diarrhea.

My head pounded and spun.  I slept but thought of foul things like chewing frogs or eating human baby arms and then bile would again spew into the bucket.

It was only 9 hours so far and if it took much longer I would die!  I had no one to call for help and I would die before calling 911. I was on my last roll of TP.  I needed caffeine. That would be hours and hours away.

No crackers in the apartment to nibble to settle my stomach.  I had disgusting ramen and half a jar of grape jelly.  I was going to head to the market this morning but fell ill last evening.  Thinking of the fruity jelly made me vomit again...missing the bucket!  I didn't care.

I was sweating and chilled.  My clothes were soaked - some of which was likely piss.  Pills were swallowed and vomited back up.  Little hope in that respect.  My eyes burned from dehydration.  My lower lip was cracked and bleeding...my only nourishment...my own blood.  I craved more!  I thought of a blood milk shake and smiled.  Maybe I would survive this!

A roach watched me from my night stand.  I smacked it dead and then wondered if it were God watching over me.  Probably not.