A splitting headache shook Craig awake. Was it a symptom of brain hemorrhage? He didn’t know but the pain was excruciating. Craig was not one who lets paranoia get the better of him but on this night, he wasn’t sure anymore. After all, he lost his parents to unstoppable bleeding in the brain.
He felt constant thumping on the right side of his temple. He raised his right arm, numbed from the overnight pressure his 80kg frame exerted on it. He straightened his hand for a while, letting blood flow to the numbed area. He clenched his fist and opened it. He repeated this action for a few times as he felt needles running over his veins from the sudden rush of blood.
When his arm regained the colour of life, he bent his palm outwards and began knocking his right temple with the inner side of his wrist. The second drawer of the cabinet by his bedside still contained half a bottle of painkillers and he knew that they were enough to last him for a week or two if this pain persisted. But he didn’t trust them anymore. This time, he decided to take things into his own hand. Moreover, the doctors in the country’s most renowned hospital failed to save his parents. That gave him one less reason to keep up with his family doctor’s prescription.
After a few knockings, he felt his wrist wet. “Blood” he thought. As he moved his wrist to within his field of view, he had mixed feelings of hoping that he was wrong while at the same time, an unexplainable hope that he was right. “Colour” as the next thought flashed in his mind. “No.” he paused. “No colour”. As the liquid flowed down his wrist hanging dangerous by the edge of his arm, he saw that it was perspiration. Suddenly, he felt an uncomfortable rise in temperature within him. The liquid gave up the struggle and dripped on his thick blanket forming a tiny wet patch.
As he pushed his blanket away from his chest down to his waist to reveal a well-toned body, he felt an icy cold on his abs. The air-conditioner whistled sporadically and on his back, he felt his bed warm and wet. His nipple erected and seemed to have frozen as he turned himself over to enjoy the chill the cold air inflicted on his back. As he tucked his palm below his pillow, he felt a hard object. He pulled it out and the display read “16°C”. He had always enjoyed the thrill that cold breeze brings as it blows on the sweat beads on his body as much as he knew that it wasn’t good for him.
As the perspiration covering his forehead dry on his pillow cover and those on his back evaporate off leaving a sticky feeling, the migraine seemed to have beaten a retreat. Deep in his heart, he knew that this isn't over. It will be back, probably stronger, probably weaker but it will be back. And before that time comes, he will brace himself for its next attack. For now, enjoying this much sought weekend break is his priority.
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i caught the last temptation of christ today, finally. it was a good movie albeit some controversial suggestions. i seem to have a lot to say but can't remember. seeing my friend's blog gave me the idea of posting an essay. may be boring to you but at least i can practice my language before i lose touch.