I haven’t been sick for more than 3 years and it was probably one of the most proudest things in my life. Seeing some friends going to the hospital in spring while staying normally at home, I nearly forgot what is feel like to throw up, have a sore throat and carry tissues around. But today I’m sick, seriously, just as weak as I was back in 7th grade, where I had chicken poxes and was unable to go to school for 3 weeks. 

I couldn’t get off from my knees this morning. My mom said it was weird for me to be sick and I thought so too. I even tried to pretend like I was just having an instant headache or something, but I knew I failed totally when I realized I haven’t gone downstairs nor started reading my new books - The Great Gatsby and The Odyssey. Whenever I bent my body towards the ground, I felt a strong nasty stream of slimes flushing out of my stomach, and my head weighing a thousand pounds. 

When I thought back, I analyzed very carefully about those things that could possibly got me sick. A vivacious picture popped up in my mind: I remembered a construction worker who sitted next to me, sneezing right at my face on the subway. What the heck? I also remembered that he didn’t feel sorry at all. I was outraged. Certainly, going to work for the past week only made my condition worst.

When I was laying in my bed and watching my aunt picking up dusts in my room, her surly body suddenly and almost unimaginably became attracted to me, that I wish I could be like her, that I hadn’t been sick…