I wake up to something bitter tasting seeping through my mouth. Almost as if I had been drowning in my own saliva filled with raw iron. I run my tongue along my teeth, hoping to scrape off that awful feeling building up in my mouth; but I can't seem to do anything right anymore.
I groan and open my eyes, squinting up at the golden rays escaping through my blinds. I slowly sit up, watching my head to test how sick I feel. I limp my way to the door, just brushing against my finger tips when I can't hold it in much longer. My knees buckle together and my body falls to the floor, leaving me with a knock on the head. But this doesn't worry me. What really draws my attention is my sudden urge to vomit, which has begun to take place with the wood paneled floorboards.
I sigh when my stomach calms down and the burning sensation in my mouth subsides. I wipe my lips off with the back of my hand and rest my head on the wall.
That one spontaneous night...and all I'm left with is the scars.