Eye of the Storm (Hudson 3)

me! Listen to me! Aunt Victoria!'"

Moments later the front door opened and closed

below and she was gone. I was alone. The cramps

continued, my nausea returned and I threw up again

and again until I was too weak to li

ft my head from

the pillow.

Rest. I told myself. Stay calm and rest and in a

little while try to get yourself to the telephone in her

room.

I drifted in and out of sleep. I could sense that

things weren't going well with my bladder again. I

was wet and my cramping became more and more

severe. The waves of nausea moved into something else, something beyond. My body felt warmer and warmer and my mouth was suddenly so dry, I couldn't swallow. My tongue was a thick piece of sandpaper.

Shouting for help was painful.

The pain between my temples, over my

forehead became so intense it brought tears to my

eyes. It felt like someone with a thumb and a

forefinger made of steel was squeezing and squeezing

me there. All I could do was moan and cry inside. I

had no idea about time. There wasn't a working clock

in the room. I know I drifted on and off for what had

to be hours, feeling myself grow warmer and warmer

until I thought I might set the very bed on fire, How I

wished I had just a sip of water.

The movement of sunlight away from the east

side of the house told me it was late afternoon.

Drifting in and out of sleep I thought I had heard

footsteps and the creak of the door being opened

farther. Sure enough. when I opened my eyes again. I