***Butch***
I rub one hand in circles on her back while the other holds her hair back. As she is hunched over the toilet,
"Sunshine, Im not liking all this sickness, let me call your dad," I tell her as she heaves again. This is every morning; she no sooner wakes up than she dashes to the bathroom. And she is hardly eating; everything makes her sick. We have been eating up here in the evening cause all the different smells during dinner, she cant seem to handle them, or we go to my office,
Lifting her hand, she waves in a no motion. She pulls back, reaching up flushing it, she falls to her butt as she folds her arm over the toilet seat, laying her head on them, letting out a sigh, her eyes are closed,
I let go of her hair, moving to the sink, wetting a cloth, kneeling next to her,
