Page 120 of Eye of the Storm (Hudson 3)

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moment I woke. I was overcome with the urge to

vomit. Wave after wave of nausea kept me from

lifting my head from the pillow. I took deep breaths

and tried to keep myself calm. What was happening to

me? Was it a result from my great physical exertion

yesterday? I still had dull throbbing all over my body. When I turned slightly to my left, my nipples

tingled and then I felt a slight aching in my breasts.

Why should that be? A terrifying hot fear shot up my

spine like mercury moving up a thermometer. I shook

my head to deny the possibility, however another

realization flashed across my brain. I hadn't thought

much about it because I had so many other physical

concerns these days-- but I had missed my period

weeks ago.

All of this hit me like a punch in the stomach

and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I leaned

over the side of the bed and vomited. As I did I

screamed for Aunt Victoria: I screamed for anyone. I

thought I was dying on the spot. Every time I paused.

I screamed again and again. Finally, she came to my

door.

There was a radical change between what she

had looked like yesterday and what she looked like this morning. As if she had woken from a dream, stopped her sleepwalking or snapped out of a coma, she was the more familiar Aunt Victoria again, at least in appearance. Dressed in one of her business suits, her hair brushed neatly, the makeup gone, including the lipstick, she stood in the doorway and stared in at me with a look of disgust emerging from within her bailey face like a bubble of air rising to the top of

some water.

That maddening mind of hers had slipped back

into the present I thought. I hoped.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"What am I doing? I'm sick," I said, "How

could you leave me like this?"

"You're disgusting." she said and marched

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