ALL SAINTS’ DAY comes, and here I am on my bed – stiff but burning in the heat. Nauseous and drowsy, but just a little. My body can do and exert force as a normal me would, yet I have no choice but to stay here. It feels like they are imprisoning me in my own room. It is tedious, too much silence that I cannot take any longer and permanently nothing to do than lie on my soft, comfortable bed. What a holiday in my room. Am I still a child?
I loath this. Why would my mom still treat me like a kid whenever I get sick? I want to hang out with my friends this Sunday. I did not return here just to be locked in my room. I am all fine!
Today is the first Sunday and the first day of fresh November. October ends without a thrill, although I saw quite enough pe
