LYRIC
On the bed was a young boy, just about the girl's age, shaking profusely.
It wasn't shivering-kind of shake. He looked like someone that was in hell.
His forehead was beaded with sweat, and his tiny hands were fisted around the sheets. I didn't think I'd seen a little child in so much pain before.
"My goodness, what is wrong with him?" I asked, alarmed, as I ran to meet him in the bed.
His eyes were tightly shut, small grunts of pain escaping his throat.
"It happens to him often but it's getting worse by the day. I don't know where mummy went, and daddy's busy. I can't go to him."
Touching the boy's forehead, it was as hot as burning coal, I almost hissed. For the love of Selene, he was in a terrible state! A child like him didn't deserve to go through this.
I should be
