Young Writers Society

“I’m so hungry,” I rasped. My voice was different, so different I didn’t recognize it. It was evil. “The jelly in my sister’s eyes would do for a good meal, I’d just have to gouge them out and suck.”

“Kaleigh!” my mother called.

Damn it! It thought, snapping out of my story. I always loved to exaggerate and make up stories in my mind. I really was very hungry, having lived off yoghurt and ice cream for the last two weeks. My wisdom teeth had been taken out. It took ages for the swelling to lessen, but just when I started to look remotely normal, it started up again, owing to the abscess which had formed in my right cheek. I can barely open my mouth larger than a centimeter, and since I have a sizable over-bit, I can’t worm anything larger than a pill through my teeth.

“Kaleigh!” my mother called again.

I opened my eyes to stare at the dull white ceiling above me. With a sigh I swept my feet off the bed and on the floor. The medication I had to take had the side effect of drowsiness, causing me to lie down every spare minute. I crossed the small room to the oak door, and stepped into the tiny hall from which our rooms mouthed. We were in Cape Town on holiday, staying in a cheap boarding house. I hated feeling this way on vacation. I had to sit quietly and watch as my family ate at the best restaurants, while I slurped some disgusting mush. I guess I’d have to sample Cape Town’s fine cuisine (as they said in the pamphlets) an other time.

My mother was standing in the little kitchen, holding a bottle of pills.

“Have you taken your pills already?” she asked, looking up as I squeezed through the minuscule entrance to the kitchen. A mini-fridge stood on ones side, and an extended counter on the other, leaving little space to get through.

“Yes,” I muttered through my teeth (I couldn’t open my mouth wide enough to talk properly).

“Good,” she said, putting the bottle on the fridge.

“Where are the guys?” I mumbled, taking a glass out of the cupboard.

“They went down to Cape point,” she answered shortly.

This is what I hated the most about my condition. I get left behind. Not that it’s new to me. I always get left behind, puffy-cheeks or not.