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Splitting (Unreviewed)[]

I woke up with a splitting tension headache. I felt like my head was about to burst, so I decided I would take some water and aspirin, then contact my doctor if it continued. Dizzy from the harsh pain, I stumbled clumsily to the bathroom and swung open the cabinets looking for the familiar yellow bottle. My eyes targeted the pill bottle of aspirin and I grabbed a glass cup and filled it with cold tap water. I swallowed the pill and took a swig of water. The headache resided after a couple minutes but then came back, albeit a small bit weaker. I decided that I would make the phone call to Dr. Munroe. I walked over to where the telephone sat on the hook and dialed the pediatrician’s phone number.

Dr. Munroe said that I should get more rest and drink more water, seeing as it was late summer and at the highest heat in a decade. He also suggested a couple different brands of headache medication but mostly said that I should rest up. If the headache continued tomorrow, I was more than welcome to come into his office to get checked out in person. I hung up and put my keys in my pockets, then drove over to the pharmacy and bought a couple of the prescribed medications. I went home afterwards, chugging what was probably an entire gallon of water but felt like a tiny sip as I took some Acetominophen and then headed back to my room. I read for a bit, had some lunch, worked on some paperwork for my job, then slept for the rest of the day.

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I noticed was that I wasn’t hungry, despite skipping dinner. The next thing I noticed was that the headache had become even worse. Whenever I moved, it felt like my brain was knocking around in my head. I didn’t even get dressed or have breakfast, I just stumbled downstairs and reached for my keys. FEAST… SAFE… WARM…

I didn’t even bother trying to drive to the doctor’s office. I was so delirious from my headache that I was in no condition to drive. I slipped on my shoes and walked out the door, ignoring the stares from passersby.


I stumbled along, my legs not obeying my commands. I had to grab onto the trees on the road verge every couple seconds to hold myself steady. I eventually managed to make it to Dr. Munroe’s office and knocked on the door.


The receptionist opened the door and asked for my name “A-Adam,” I stammered. “Adam Col-Caldwell.” The receptionist looked at me suspiciously but beckoned me inside. She stepped into the back, and Dr. Munroe came back into the waiting room after a couple minutes. “Hello, Adam,” he said. “I see that your headache is still bothering you.” I nodded, and he beckoned me into his office.


He had me sit down and asked me what my symptoms were. “Well, I’ve got this splitting headache, and I feel like I’m losing my ability to think,” I said. Dr. Munroe hmphed and went into the back. He came back a couple minutes later. He carried a large box shaped like a suitcase, and laid it down on the ground where I couldn’t see. “Close your eyes, son,” Dr. Munroe said. “This is scary for some patients.” SO COLD… FOOD GONE… HOME SO CLOSE… MOTHER… BROTHER… WHERE ARE YOU… SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN… I WAS SO HUNGRY… HE WAS SUCH A GOOD HOST… WE NEED TO BECOME… STRONGER…

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