“Wake up you little brat!” Jorge yelled at me, but I could barely hear it through my earmuffs.
“Wake up!” he yelled again, but this time with a gigantic shake. As I awoke from my horrid dream, I felt a burning sensation in my lower throat area; something was coming up and it would not be pretty.
“I got him up, mom!” Jorge shouted out my bedroom door.
“Get some clothes on. Mom is crying her eyes out and she is asking for you,” Jorge ordered me.
After he slammed the door, I threw up all over my bed and my floor, and I knew that I had to hurry up and get dressed. I tried to stand, but I fell right down into my pukey mess. Soon I was calling my mother for help -- She never came, so I had to crawl out of my stained PJ’s and get a new tee-shirt and some shorts. Once again, I felt a burning in my throat.
“Oh go --” was all I could say as the hot liquid came running out my mouth and onto my already filthy bed. Now I regretted not telling my mother how I felt the night before. As I cleaned my bed and ran down stairs, I saw my mother sitting at the table crying.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” I asked quickly.
A little out of breath from crying she asked me why I had my sheets with me.
“I...um...I threw up all over my room,” I confessed. Then she got up and hugged me for a good minute or two and finally came out about what was wrong.
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