Sick Like Me (Sick Like #1)

Chapter 5

FIVE

MAY 2024

I gasped as I sat up in bed, my hand coming to my throat as I tried to pull off an invisible rope that was trying to suffocate me, drown me.

I realised it had just been a dream when I lowered a shaky hand to touch the section of my stomach where the blade penetrated me. When I pulled my hand back to reveal no red sticky substance, I let out a sigh of relief.

I suffered from night terrors sometimes. They were never brought on by anything specific, they just… sometimes happened. And they usually knocked me for six.

I closed my eyes and let my body fall back against the bed, my had coming up to gently caress my forehead. I breathed slowly, counting each breath. One. Two. Three. I was finally convinced I was okay, so I finally opened my eyes once again and sat back up but slower that time.

I reached to my left bedside table and grabbed my glass of water. I placed the glass straw between my lips and sucked. The liquid was warm which made me cringe, but my throat let out gurgles of silent appreciation at the offer of hydration.

I placed the glass down a little more aggressive than I intended to, then I picked up my phone from the stand it sat comfortably in. I pressed my thumb against my screen, and when no numbers or words came into view I let out a frustrated groan.

“I really need to replace this shitty thing,” I mumbled tiredly to myself.

I held two of the side buttons on the phone as if I were going to turn it off, a trick to reset the screen my friend had told me some months ago. The screen lit up and I swiped away the power button to show my home screen which was just a black screen with pink numbers and notifications.

I sighed at the time. 07:13. Of course on my one day off would I would wake up early regardless.

My eyes felt heavy and begged for relief, but I was already awake so I may as well as get on with whatever tasks I wanted to , I convinced myself.

My bed was warm so it was a struggle to climb out, but I turned my phone off of sleep mode and grabbed my glass of water. I pulled my duvet off of me and shivered when the cold hit my naked body.

I threw my legs off the side of the bed and then stood, walking around to the end of my bed which opened to a wider space, the space my drawers sat. I placed my glass on top of my drawers, then I grabbed my door to close it slightly. Off the back of the door, I grabbed my grey silk dressing down and slipped into it before securing the ribbon tight around my waist.

I then grabbed my glass once again and opened the door back to its original placement. I slipped out of the door, through the small hallway of the upstairs to my house before I walked down the carpeted stairs to the downstairs hallway.

The downstairs of my house had three doors. There was the door right ahead, the front door which led out to the street. A few meters before that door, there was an open archway with just a curtain blocking the view into the room. That was my designated art room, one I hadn’t stepped foot in for weeks .

I tore my eyes away from the purple curtain to the open white door to my living room, which led through to the kitchen. I closed the door behind me, hoping to keep in some heat as I made my way to the kitchen.

The washing machine beeped at me, reminding me the cycle I had put it on the night before was complete. I walked over to it and turned the stupid thing off before I made my way to the sink to grab my favourite mug, a mug in the shape of the dress of the Queen of Hearts.

As I picked up the mug I looked inside it and found it to be clean save for some droplets of water. I shrugged one shoulder then side stepped to further down my kitchen counter where my coffee machine sat.

I opened the section of the machine where I was to place my pod of choice, then I opened the acrylic drawer under it. I grabbed a random one, no care in the world for what it was. I needed coffee, any kind would do.

I placed my mug under the water nozzle then turned the machine on, water beginning to pour out of it. I took in a deep breath through my nose, the smell warm and inviting. Eventually the water stopped, and the machine light flashed a few seconds before the light turned from red to green.

I grabbed the handle of my mug and walked with it to the living room, then I threw myself into my usual seat on the sofa. I placed my coffee mug on the side table beside me, then I replaced it with the TV remote.

I pressed the button to turn the large screen in front of me on, and smiled when it opened to the TV series I had been watching last night before I fell asleep on the sofa. I pressed play, then I grabbed my fleece blanket from beside me to laze it over my body to keep me warm.

As I got into my zone, enjoying watching the serial killer of the episode get caught by the FBI, I heard my phone buzz from beside me on the sofa and so I picked up the device. I turned my head slightly away from the TV screen just enough to unlock my phone, not wanting to miss the final scene of the episode.

The episode finished and the credits rolled on the screen, so I then finally pulled my phone into front view. My eyes glossed over the notification, only to find it was a reminder I had set myself earlier in the week that it was payday and I needed to go food shopping.

I let out a groan as I threw my head back against the sofa.

I hated shopping.

I used to do a weekly food order, but I found I was buying things I never ate or would not eat for some time, my cupboards filling with foods that had often to be discarded. So in recent months I decided to go to the supermarket myself and do my monthly shop that way.

If I ever needed anything extra, I could just pick it up on the way home from work—a routine that actually worked for me and resulted in me spending less on food and eating more of the things I actually wanted.

Something that Stefan found a wonder, as if the roles were reversed, he would be buying a food shop that could feed a family of four every time he entered his local supermarket.

I stood from the sofa, pressing harshly on the TV remote to turn the screen off. Then I made my way to the kitchen and through a door that was tucked in the far left corner of the room—my utility room that connected to my bathroom.

I closed the door to the utility room and then undressed from my robe. I walked to my speaker and turned it on, then I found a suitable playlist before I turned the shower on and got under the water to bask in the warmth it had to offer.

Around forty minutes later, with my wet hair tied on top of my head in a very lazy and messy bun, I found myself wandering down the candle aisle as I deemed I deserved a treat after the shit date I had faced in the week.

I stopped as I reached my usual style of candle, ones that I joked smelt like ‘hot man’. I picked up the familiar black Yankee and pulled the lid off, taking a large whiff of the ‘Midsummer’s Night’ scent as if I hadn’t been using the same one for years.

I placed the glass lid back on the jar carefully, then I placed it in the trolley on top of some new towels I claimed I needed after the last ones got stained by some kind of substance during some repairs a repair man completed on my leaking boiler.

I picked up another of my favourite candle, then walked down to the end of the aisle. I debated picking up another two candles to really spoil myself, but I decided it better to save the money for something more productive—like more jammy red wine or some extra litres of ice cream I knew I didn’t need.

I walked around the side aisle that sat perpendicular to the home aisles I had just raided, the space opening up to the middle of the store where rows and rows of parallel shelves stood waiting for me to judge and determine which items I would be taking home with me.

I looked left, then right as I walked past the nearby aisles. I read the contents from the banners on top of them, deciding I needed nothing from inside them. But then I stopped my movements as I found in the fruit and veg aisle Dean, or whatever the fuck his name was.

My mouth fell open as I momentarily forgot he lived in the nearby area, then I remembered some conversation we had weeks earlier. I swallowed and as I went to move, his eyes looked up and locked on me as if he could feel my stare.

I smiled awkwardly, even daring my right hand to let go of my trolley to give him a small wave. The cold and emotionless stare he gave me was enough to let both my smile and hand drop before I pushed the trolley briskly onto the next set of aisles.

I found shampoo down the middle of the aisle to my left and rushed down it, praying to get as far away from the man as I could. I sucked in a breath through my teeth when I got to the middle of the shelves, then I stopped in my tracks and turned to face the products.

I pulled my phone out from my hoodie pocket and rushed to type a message to Peyton. The second I pressed send, my phone screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call. I smiled and swiped the green button to be met with the faces of my best friend and my darling ‘niece’.

I placed my phone on the phone stand on the trolley, speaking up while praying my earphones would pick up my voice good enough for them. “Hey my darling little Nova, how are you?”

The not-quite-yet toddler babbled something, trying to figure out how to sound out the words. I caught a word every now and then, but she talked too fast for me to register her words properly. “Oh, wow, that’s great sweetie,” I replied, not wanting her to think I was ignoring her.

“So, tell me everything!” Peyton spoke up as she stood from her crouching position to show Nova Summer was sat in her baby pink and white high chair, the same one Peyton and I had several breakdowns over while trying to build not long after her birth. Whoever thought buying a wooden flatpack baby chair—me, it was me—deserved to be shot.

“I’m still in public so I can’t talk too much,” I tried to say through gritted teeth as I turned back to the shampoos. “Do I want coconut or apple?”

“Strawberry,” Peyton replied, and without a second thought I picked up the red shampoo bottle, and the matching pale pink conditioner bottle. I placed both in the trolley, then I grabbed the handle once again to continue my path through the aisles.

“What are the chances you see him on the one day you go shopping, huh?” Peyton asked, but then she tilted her head to the side as she hummed and really thought about it. “But then again, it is a common day for people to have off work. Tons of people go food shopping on a Sunday now.”

“Yeah, I know,” I muttered, irritated as an older woman almost ran right into my trolley as she was too busy gossiping with a group of other women around her age, some with greying hair and some with wrinkles dotting their faces.

I had to stop myself from barking at the woman to watch where she was fucking going. She gave me an apologetic smile, to which I forced one in return until she had passed me.

“God Ash, you look like someone just stole your left tit,” Peyton gave a little laugh when Nova repeated the word. “Don’t say that in front of grandma Summer, Novie, or mummy will get in big trouble.”

I couldn’t stop the smile on my face as the little girl babbled in the background. “Do I need to pick anything up for you both?” I offered, to which Peyton gave a firm shake of her head.

“No, we’re all set before we go away. It’s a shame you couldn’t join us. The caravan feels empty without you,” Peyton pouted, then brought her camera back down to show off her daughter was pouting too in a tactic that they suspected would magically make me agree to the trip.

I let out a sigh and shook my head, turning down the final aisle with my trolley heavy and hard to manoeuvre. “I know, but you know it’s hard for me to take time off work when I have a huge pile of clients I need to check up on. Trust me, I hate having to speak to those and would much prefer to go away for a week. I prefer to answer emails from customer’s angry that their wardrobe collapsed or something.”

“Well, Stefan said you’re up for the promotion which may end with you changing teams to the one that decorates houses or shit, so it makes sense they want you to follow up with customers to check how they like their homes and furnishings, or whatever the fuck it was they do. ”

Peyton had been spending too much time with Stefan, I thought. She was even beginning to sound like him.

“He’s lying, there’s no promotion going. He just wants to ship me off to another team so he can become customer service leader,” I stated, smiling jokingly.

A vibration sounded through my earphone which revealed Peyton’s phone had a notification. She swiped the screen and I watched as her face went from light hearted to serious. She let out a sigh, then she swiped back up the screen.

“Hey, Ash, I have to go. He wants to see her before we go away for the week,” Peyton threw her head in the direction of Nova, not wanting to say her father’s name for fear of her daughter picking up on how sour the man made her mother’s moods.

I nodded slowly and then let out a dramatic sigh of my own. “Okay. Well, text me when he comes over and when he leaves, and remind him I know where he lives and what shitty car he drives so if he tries anything, and I mean anything , me and Stefan will tag team murdering him.”

Peyton let out a bark of laughter, and despite not knowing the reason, Nova laughed loudly too. Her laugh was contagious, addicting and sweet.

And it broke my heart.

I wanted a child and I wanted the love Peyton had with her boyfriend of over six months, but instead I was cursed with endless workloads and desires that made men wish they had never fucking met me.

“Alright, well I have to go check this stuff out. Talk soon babes. Bye bye Novie!” I said before I waved at the screen once my trolley was parked securely in front of a ‘scan yourself’ register.

I finished my shopping and paid for it, cringing at the price. I bought more wine bottles than needed, but my stock was low—that was my defence.

I took my bags home and unpacked them, placing everything in its home nice and neat. Once I was sure I was satisfied with where everything was, I decided I wanted to get out of my house for a bit so I picked my car keys back up from the console in my hallway by my front door. I walked out to my car where it sat on the drive, and climbed in.

The second I turned the engine on, my music began to blast once again through the speaker. I was thankful I lived in a semi detached, whereby the retirement aged couple next door spent most of their time on trips around the world to ever be home to bear witness to my noise.

I drove for as long as I could, my brain on auto pilot as I drove down main roads, then began to wind around lanes for miles. The sky began to get dark, and that was when I found my car turning into a small car park on top of a mountain—a view I had grown to love when Peyton was pregnant and needed time away from her then boyfriend, the father of her child and the pathetic excuse of a man that destroyed her.

He was lucky the few times I saw him, his daughter was nearby or else I would chew that little man out.

I turned my engine off but kept my key in the ignition, reaching for the radio to turn the blasting music down to a quiet hum.

As if she had a lock on my location—I wouldn’t put it past her—and knew I had stopped driving, my phone screen lit up from it’s stand and revealed the face of a very tired looking Peyton once again.

“Did my sweetie want to say goodnight before bed?” I cooed to which Peyton threw up a middle finger. She then moved the same hand to rub her eyes, her lips opening wide into a large yawn .

“I just let him put her down to sleep before he left. Will came home not too long ago too, so he saw James out so I could sneak up the garden for a fag and a catch up,” Peyton spoke.

“I thought you quit,” I narrowed my eyes, sitting up straighter in my seat as I prepared to chastise her. But then I decided better. She had just spent hours on end with a man she hated, I could be nice to her for a few hours. “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice sincere.

Peyton nodded slowly, her hand reaching out of frame and coming back with a lit cigarette, the tip glowing orange as she took a long breath in with the mouth piece between her lips. She pulled the cigarette from her lips and let out a targeted stream of smoke.

“I hate wishing bad on people, but I really wished that man would fucking die,” She spat, pursing her lips to stop a tremble that showed she wanted to cry.

“I know babe, I’m sorry,” I whispered, wishing I could do anything to help ease her bad mood. “Do you want me to come over, or pick you up? I’m already out of the house, as you can see.” I offered, to which she forced a smile and shook her head, taking another long drag of her cigarette.

“I’ll be okay. Will has food cooking anyway. We’re having pizza, and we’re going to watch Vampire Diaries to try and cheer me up. At least he didn’t try to pick a fight with Will this time,” Peyton’s forced smile turned sincere as she let out a small giggle.

“Oh for sure, I think it’s safe to say all five foot and five inches of Franki Cavanaugh, the former bouncer extraordinaire, was enough to keep him in check,” I giggled, then reached for my car key to turn the engine back on. “Are you sure you don’t want to come hang? I got nothing better to do this evening than down a few bottles of jammy red,” I tried to coerce her, not wanting to reveal I was not in the right mood to be alone and sober.

Peyton shook her head with a small smile. “No, don’t worry. Don’t let me keep you from your wine and shitty Tinder chats,” Peyton gave a little laugh as she finished the last few drags of her cigarette. “By the way,” She continued. “This,” She waved the box of cigarettes to the phone. “Stays between us, okay?”

I rolled my eyes. She couldn’t surely believe Will wouldn’t be able to smell and taste the smoke on her. But I could tell she was in no mood for reason and so instead I held up my little finger. She held her own up to the screen.

I then used my thumb and forefinger to faux zip my lips before I threw the zip away. Peyton laughed at the action before she blew a kiss and bid her goodbyes.

I drove home, my music quieter than I usually had it as I drove. I swallowed the sinking feeling. I hated spending my nights alone, but I was used to it by then. Plus, it was better than inviting a random stranger over every night to share my bed just for me to kick him out in the morning.

At least I had some sense of direction.

Not much, though.

I poured my glass of wine, the glass large enough to hold half a bottle. I stared at it, amazed every time by how much it could hold. Then without a second thought, I brought the glass to my lips and took my first sip of the night.