Sick And Distraught

It must have been the walk at the beach, Alexa reasoned as her teeth shattered and her hands fumbled to pull the quilt over her head.

Through squinted eyes, she peeked at the remote control of the air-con lying on the bedside table, but the trip to it was one she feared she wouldn't be able to make. Curling under the blanket, her fidgeting hands tightly held on to it.

From how terribly she shivered and how raging the splitting ache in her head was, she feared death might not be too far away. The shattering rhythm of her teeth had her dreading the possibility of her premature demise, because her head felt like a chain-saw was running in it, and her nose felt too congested for air to pass through.