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Description
"Achoo!" It was allergy season. The beginning of spring. The beginning of my suffering. I sniffled and sat down on the couch, looking absently for the remote to turn on the television. Some good TV to take my mind of this raw pain in my throat, that was what I needed. As if to say it wasn't going anymwhere, the pain and trouble swallowing caused me to cough. Annoyed, I got up and went into the bathroom, opening my mouth and staring at my throat through the mirror. White on the sides and bright red in the very back. I closed my mouth as I muttered a curse and put a hand under my chin, against my throat. It hurt...! Taking a breath, I steeled myself and stomped out of the bathroom into the kitchen. I roughly grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and slammed its door shut. I cracked the safety seal and threw back my head and the bottle, but found the first sip got stuck. I lurched forward and slowly forced the water down, gasping afterwards. I glared at the plastic contained. Damn thing. It had to be the water. Still, I continued to drink, hoping the pain would subside. It always would. Even if I thought I tasted blood. I returned to the couch, still without the remote. I didn't feel like getting up to look for it, so I set the water down on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch, a hand against my throat once again. It was way too early in the season for me to be in this kind of pain. I knew I wasn't getting sick, though. Past my mother's drunken stupor, even she was sneezing and complaining that her throat hurt. I took a breath in through my nose, and then my eyes shot open. It hurt like there was acid in my throat and nostrils. I sat forward and smacked both hands over my mouth and runny nose, eyes wide as I gasped. My tongue touched the lower part of my mouth. Copper, I thought at the taste. I'd been hit in the mouth plenty enough to know the taste. Why was it so severe? I groaned and grabbed the water, desperately drinking it. In the seconds I was drinking, I felt relieved. As soon as I stopped, the pain returned, full-force. I bit my tongue and put my hands over my face, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. Day one, I thought angrily. This was just the beginning of the season.

Description
"Achoo!" It was allergy season. The beginning of spring. The beginning of my suffering. I sniffled and sat down on the couch, looking absently for the remote to turn on the television. Some good TV to take my mind of this raw pain in my throat, that was what I needed. As if to say it wasn't going anymwhere, the pain and trouble swallowing caused me to cough. Annoyed, I got up and went into the bathroom, opening my mouth and staring at my throat through the mirror. White on the sides and bright red in the very back. I closed my mouth as I muttered a curse and put a hand under my chin, against my throat. It hurt...! Taking a breath, I steeled myself and stomped out of the bathroom into the kitchen. I roughly grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and slammed its door shut. I cracked the safety seal and threw back my head and the bottle, but found the first sip got stuck. I lurched forward and slowly forced the water down, gasping afterwards. I glared at the plastic contained. Damn thing. It had to be the water. Still, I continued to drink, hoping the pain would subside. It always would. Even if I thought I tasted blood. I returned to the couch, still without the remote. I didn't feel like getting up to look for it, so I set the water down on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch, a hand against my throat once again. It was way too early in the season for me to be in this kind of pain. I knew I wasn't getting sick, though. Past my mother's drunken stupor, even she was sneezing and complaining that her throat hurt. I took a breath in through my nose, and then my eyes shot open. It hurt like there was acid in my throat and nostrils. I sat forward and smacked both hands over my mouth and runny nose, eyes wide as I gasped. My tongue touched the lower part of my mouth. Copper, I thought at the taste. I'd been hit in the mouth plenty enough to know the taste. Why was it so severe? I groaned and grabbed the water, desperately drinking it. In the seconds I was drinking, I felt relieved. As soon as I stopped, the pain returned, full-force. I bit my tongue and put my hands over my face, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. Day one, I thought angrily. This was just the beginning of the season.