Twisted Faith

41

Chapter Forty-One| Tyla

Cristian laid his head across my lap as we were gazing out on the water. Till tomorrow, today has been a beautiful day. That's where the real problems, at the ball, would play out. Cris, Apollo, and Aris have still not told us of the scheme, but I don't think they want to. 

I've been through a lot of being with Cris now that I'm thinking about it. I was forced to take his offer to be almost abducted then placed in the hospital to be captured entirely and nearly sold.

"What's on your mind, Angel?" Cristian asked, now looking up at me. 

"Nothing," I told him, "Nothing too major."

He shifted in his seat, "I know you're lying."

"What?" I questioned.

"Mya told me about you having nightmares." He confessed.

I looked confused, "I told her not to say anything to anyone about that."

"You did now," He said, "Plus, I'm not just anyone."

"I-" I was stumped, "Look, I'll be fine. It's just something that I have to get over."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" He added.

"I know. " Cris inched closer to my face as so did I, but before Cris's lips meet mine, a small voice intervenes, making us pull apart.

"No kissing, Tyty," Nico exclaimed as he climbed up on the chair and started to push Cristian away from me.

Cristian sighs loudly, "He has it out for me."

"What are you talking about," I asked, "He's like four year's old."

"I'm telling you," Cristian explained, "Explain last night, huh?"

"What about last night?" I questioned.

"I was trying to have my fun with you," He explained while starting to point at Nico, "But someone wanted to climb into our bed and snuggle all over you. I couldn't even get a feel in or touch you."

I smirk, "He didn't want to sleep alone, this is his first night without his mom. Plus, if you weren't so mean, he would snuggle with you too."

"All I'm saying is he has it out for me," Nico turned around and stared at him while Cristian stared back, "And I'm not falling for it."

I opened at his outrageous comments as I got up from the chair, "Yeah, okay."

"Wait, where are you going?" He asked.

"I'm starting to feel nauseous, "I told him, "So, I'm going to the bathroom to see if I have to throw up." 

"I'm going to call the family doctor," He said.

"There's no need its probably side effects from the syringe they gave me," I told him, "It's. okay."

"I'm still calling anyway," He said, "I want to make sure."

"Okay, but don't say I warned you," I said as I ented the bathroom. I walked over to the toilet lifting the seat already started to feel nausea. It clawed at my throat, and I tried to force down the bile, but it was too late. Chunks of partially digested chicken spewed out of my coughing, choking mouth. My stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out. My face was pale with sweat and tears. I lurched forward and sunk to my knees. The pungent stench invaded my nostrils, and I heaved even though there was nothing left to go.  

Once finished, I flushed the toilet before brushing my teeth. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, and it didn't look well. My once beautiful melanin was now pale, and I didn't feel well either. Certain foods I once loved is now disgusting or not my favorite anymore.