Saving Madison

Chapter Five

Madison's p.o.v »»

This morning, I don't wake up with nausea, but I still have a sick feeling in my stomach. After calling Lily last night, I felt even worse than before. I could tell from the sound of her voice that my best friend wasn't the same girl she used to be. This girl had a more confident, strong voice with a hint of malice.

She was popular now without a doubt.

After I stated who I was on the phone, the line went completely dead. As in, she didn't want to talk to me.

Whether it be because I'm suppose to be dead, or because I'm not popular, she just didn't want anything to do with me.

"Madison, I'm talking to you." My mother's sharp voice interjected my deep thoughts.

I blink, looking down at my breakfast, "Sorry," I apologize, "What is it?" I ask, stabbing my eggs with my fork.

"I called the school this morning," she said, sitting at the head of the dinner table.

I looked up at her with a surprised expression, "You did?" I inquired with my eyebrows raised.

She nodded, placing a piece of bacon on my dad's plate, "I had to, so you could miss the first day."

I bit my lip not liking the sound of that, "Why? I didn't vomit this morning, I should be fine to go back with everybody else today." I argued taking a sip of my orange juice.

My mom let out a frustrated sigh, "I have some therapist and psychologist coming over to see you." she explained, "You'll need to miss today as well."

I opened my mouth to argue, but she raised her finger, stopping me. "Madison don't, it's not up for discussion." She said sternly, getting up to throw her plate in the sink.

Before I could speak again, she continued, "Besides, I think it's better this way, it'll give the kids at school more time to adjust."

I scoffed, "This isn't fair, you're going to have to let me out of the house sooner or later," I remarked, tossing my plate in the sink, "And when you learn to accept what happened, everything will be normal again." I said, reassuring myself more than trying to prove a point.

My mother gave me a sympathetic look with her hands on her hips, "Nothing is ever going to be normal again, Maddie." She mumbled sadly.

I watched silently as she grabbed her purse, "I'm going to work." She said, walking out the door without a second glance.

I crossed my arms against my chest, trying not to dwell on her realistic perspective.

"Hey, she didn't mean that," My dad voiced, reaching out to touch me, which resulted in me backing away from him.

I shook my head, "No, she's right," I admitted, "This whole situation is screwed up."

My dad set his fork down giving me an indescribable look, "Why don't you get some rest? I'll call you when the professionals get here." He suggested.

I inwardly rolled my eyes and complied with his wishes, walking back up the stairs to my room.
My bedroom seemed so foreign to me, when I first came home. I remember walking into my room to see it was the way I left it, before I died. The lavender walls were slightly peeling, a few clothes littered the floor, and my homework papers were scattered all over my desk.