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The feeling of a hand on my neck changes everything in a blink of an eye. I wake up trashing around. Kicking and hitting who or whatever I can.

"Woah! Oliver stop, it's just me," a male voice says but I don't pay attention until I'm across the room and in a cornor. Then I see it's Josh.

Why was his hand on my neck!?

I breath heavily still not sure if I'm safe. He, himself, looks shocked. Why is he shocked!? He's not the one who just got-... Got? What did I get? I blink feeling confused.

Why did I freak out so bad?

Well it doesn't matter, he shouldn't have woken me up in such a startling way.

"I'm sorry, can you understand? I didn't mean to wake you up. You looked... Uh... Well you looked dead so I was checking your plus," he says standing by my bed. He does look sorry. I looked dead?

I send him a confused look.

"Your eyes were opened and you were really still so I had to make sure you were okay," he says and his story seems true. It would explain why my eyes burn.

I relax a little and look for coffee. He promised me coffee. Why isn't there coffee? I look back at him and cross my arms. My bottom lip juts out the tiniest bit and my eyebrows come together.

Liar!

He said he'd get me coffee!

He looks at me and his eyes scan me. "You're upset? Listen, I really am sorry about the scary wake up," he says and I scoff.

He perks up a little at the noise I made. "Here, let me help you get dressed," he says and opens my dresser. Dressed? My gaze goes down and I see I'm only wearing sweatpants...

Where's my shirt?

Everything is always so hazy and confusing, I must have taken it off and forgot about it. Dizziness makes me close my eyes and cover my eyes. My head hurts.

"Okay, put your hand through this hole," he says already in front of me and holding the shirt in suck a way I can put my hand through it and it will be in the right spot. I don't want his help.

I can't think correctly so when I try to put my arm through the arm hole it goes through the neck hole. My coordination has always been really bed. It's hard to change and when I eat I usually make a mess like a baby would.

"Oh- here. Try again," he says pulling the shirt away and then holding it up again.

I'm tired, I don't want to do this.

I whine and cross my arms. I can't do it right now. "Please? I have coffee being made right now in my office and I think we both need a cup or two right now," he says and suddenly I want to get this shirt on.

I stick my arm out and instead of making me do work, he does it by moving the shirt in a way that my arm goes through the right hole. I let him do the other arm and before I can try to do the rest he does it for me and too fast for me to complain.

"When did you last take a shower? Do they help you with that?" He asks.

I don't know...

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