Chasing Jonah Mchale

chapter three

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The next few days are more or less the same.
A raging headache which makes it feel as if my skull is splitting in two. Dark rooms, shutters over every window. Every six hours I down two pills, and right before I go to bed I take a few more because otherwise I can't go to sleep.

I don't go to school, and instead spend my day with my headphones on, rolling out of bed only to eat and shower. Everything is difficult to do, straining my muscles and making me out of breath when the smallest amount of force is applied.

I do walk Bella though. I'm determined not to get out of shape, even if that means swallowing my pride taking a pill and then slowly hooking on Bella's leash, and walking through my empty street with sunglasses covering my eyes.

The cold fall air makes it easier to move around. Under my feet I crunch over fallen orange and red leaves, and the whistling wind blows them away. I've lived in Allendale all my life. Its roads are familiar, as well as it's trees and homes.

Allendale's crime rate is non-existent, except for its occasional high school party that gets crashed by police. Across the river at downtown Allendale it's a different story though.

We don't cross the river.

The buzzing warmth of my medicine is what's keeping me going, keeping my legs from buckling under my weight, keeping my ears from ringing and my head from aching. When I take it, I can pretend I'm not really injured, that it's just another regular day walking Bella. She's happy to be out, her wet nose inches from the grass and her blonde tail wagging behind her.

I like having this freedom, even if it's only temporary.

I usher Bella back towards our home, and she bounds up our cobbled stairs. Mom's inside on the phone, and the back door is wide open, streaming in some sunlight from the patio.

"Okay, yes- I'll call you later tonight. Love you mom." She says looking over at me as she jokingly rolls her eyes. "Yes, I promise. Don't worry."

She hangs up her phone and sets it down on the table, "Grandma wants me to tell you that she's praying for your quick recovery."

"I'm sure she is." I say with a small smile. "When is she not praying?" I grab an apple from the kitchen counter.

"Hey- dinner's going to be ready soon." My mom says, her eyebrows raised towards the direction of the stove that's gently bubbling. "Don't ruin your appetite."

I take a bite. "It's just an apple." I say through a mouthful.

"Also- I promised Grandma that we'd come visit."

"That'll be fun."

Grandma's quite... spirited. She's tiny, with a cloud of soft white hair that she always sweeps back elegantly. She's a devoted catholic, and a very proud Irish. She even slices a cross into her soda bread in order to "let the devil out."