Sickness

His stomach churned as the vomit flowed through his esophagus to his mouth. The filth spewed forth all over the carpeting in his mother's living room causing a great stain. The stench overwhelmed him, his stomach responded in kind, gorging huge chunks of flesh onto the floor. Wiping his mouth Johnny proceed towards the bathroom and his awaiting bath. Stumbling half nauseated and half out of his mind he began to strip off his clothes, finally reaching the bathroom.

There it sat his sanctuary, the nice warm liquid waited for him, calling to him. It seemed to call his name "Johnny" he felt the irresistible pull his feet leading the way. Warm to the touch of his toes Johnny played with the liquid making little pools splash on the floor. As the ripples subsided he eased his way into to the tub, heat encased his body. Down, down, down he sank, following fate blindly there he rested, and here he was at peace.

"What are you looking at? Leave me be; can't I get any peace, any solitude?" Johnny cried. He stared into the blank eyes of his sister Angel, her soft blues eyes mocking him, his very existence. His sister's face only revealed the perpetual smile that she always wore. This is why he was sick in the head; the reason he done what he done. All Johnny wanted in all his life was to have some solitude, yet here of all places he was still haunted. Those dead eyes kept their focus upon him, always judging, always peering into those hidden places they were not meant to look.

A splash brought him back to this moment to his place. The bath was very soothing it gave him focus. "Since you are here you might as well enjoy yourself" Johnny crackled. A crooked devious smile revealed itself; he sent a stream of the revitalizing liquid splashing over the side. Angel's eyes blinked as it flowed over her but the accusation was still there. He put it out of his mind and slipped deeper into the tub losing himself. Hours went by the bath chilled to an unbearable cold. The chill awoke him, as did the sound of someone in the house.

The sound of keys turning in the lock was what Johnny heard but he knew whom it could be. Mom was home finally she would see what a good boy he had been. She would see the mess his sister left and be appalled while see what good works he had done. Johnny had at last come out from Angel's shadow. Never again would she or anyone else cast him aside as irrelevant. He had worked hard this day on the meal that caused his sickness but it was all worth it now. "Johnny, are you here, Angel?" their mother called as she made her way through a darkened house. Mrs. Cook spotted the clothes of her youngest child sprawled across the floor and shook her head. "That boy," she muttered, "he will be the death of me" picking up the clothes following the trail. The trail lead her to the dining room where a great feast had been laid out for her viewing.

She smiled knowingly that her son was trying to win her over, it had worked. She forgot about all the trouble times and heartache and thought of only her little boy, her heart. Then it hit her the stench, it was horrible almost causing her to gag.