Close My Eyes (Part 1)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7j15ERMqVQ

Violet's father stood before her in the kitchen, making breakfast. She hadn't seen him in eight years. Her heart leapt out of her chest, as she calls out to him and runs over to him. Tears of joy run down her face, as she would finally be able to hug him again. Then, as she got to him, he didn't respond. It's like he couldn't see or hear her. She reaches out, and he just seems to pull away, always just out of reach, as he keeps preparing French Toast. She took another step towards him and she was still 2 feet away from touching his sleeve. "If I can just touch him to get his attention, he'll see me." Violet thought. She moves close, finally, and felt his arm, as she woke from her nightmare, crying out.

The wind and rain crashes violently on the windows of her dark bedroom. The tears became real on her cheeks as her emotions held fast from the moment she was just in, with her father. Violet's anxiety got the best of her in the next moments. Her breathing became rapid and her heart started racing. She felt like she was 10 years old again, at her father's funeral. The memory was so strong she could feel the black dress on her skin, her mom holding her left hand, her sister holding her right, and the sadness on each of their faces.

Violet's head, aches. The hypertension in her shoulders ran all the way up her neck, stretching even to her temples. She saw the time on her phone. Violet knew she would be alone, at home for the next few hours. The pain of the headache came through in another wave, as she felt abandoned. She knew, logically, her mother was working for the next few hours. Emotionally, she didn't care, she needs some support at the moment, and none will be coming. If only her father was still alive to help her.

Violet knew she had to get to her bathroom. The nausea from the migraine increased. She was thankful her mom made her wash the rug that surrounds the base of the toilet, as she kneels on it, praying to the porcelain altar. A sacrifice soon came forth.

As she wipes her face and corners of her mouth with the hand towel, Violet is feeling better, almost instantly. Not great, but better. She flushes the toilet and washes her hands.

Reaching for the medicine cabinet sent another wave of pain though her brain and spine. She finds her prescription of 800mg Motrin and took one with a cup of water.

Violet's mind was not where she needs it to be to make it through classes that day and decides as she crawls back into bed, that she would not be going.

She opens her laptop, opens Spotify, and put on some soothing music, at low volume. She rode through some of the rough parts by rubbing her neck and head. She wishes it was anyone touching her, other than herself.

She started to develop these headaches when she was young. Her greatest comfort in those times, was just to lay on her father's chest and watch reruns of Fraggle Rock. They would giggle together at the Dozers and how their architecture was always being eaten. How much she wished she could be there again right now, could not be described in her weakened condition.

While she turns her computer around to get the light from out of her face, it dawns on her that her Mom was working a double today. "Violet would be all alone with her pain". She whispers to herself in the dark. Just to make her melancholy more real, the lightning and thunder crashes outside.

She wishes she was rich, with servants in some olden days style castle porn. She could just ring a bell and a young maid would bring her tea and cakes. No matter the sound she made, no one would be coming. So she let that idea go and held on tight through the next 20-45 minutes. She wasn't sure how long it took for the medicine to kick in, but they finally did, as she closes her eyes and falls back to sleep.