Free Fairytale Lost by Lori Hendricks Page A

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    Em stepped out of the bathroom stall she’d just been throwing up in and washed her face off with one of the rough, brown towels in the dispenser. She swished a little water in her mouth and spit it out, hoping to hide the fact that she was still sick. Isabel and Zavia had been bugging her for over a week to go to a doctor to make sure there wasn’t something more seriously wrong than the stomach flu. Em had lost quite a bit of weight and was beginning to feel lightheaded at the simplest tasks. She took a look at her ashen face in the mirror and made a promise to herself that if she wasn’t better by the end of the week, she would go see the doctor. Even she had to admit that she looked terrible.
    She took two steps toward the door and felt her legs buckle under her. Luckily she was able to catch herself by grabbing ahold of the counter top.
    “This is crazy,” she thought to herself. She pulled herself upright and slowly made her way out the bathroom and back to her office. Isabel and Zavia jumped to their feet in shock and concern at her appearance. She held up her hand to cut them off before they could henpeck her to death.
    “I know, I know. I’m going home. I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow. I swear it. I feel awful, and it’s not getting any better,” she croaked out.
    She slowly made her way to her desk to grab her purse and keys. She didn’t even bother trying to pack her laptop. Then she handed her keys to Zavia. “Can you drive me home? I really don’t think I’d make it if I tried.” Emmalyn tried to smile, but the motion made her stomach drop. She barely made it to the garbage can before beginning to dry heave again. She had nothing left in her stomach to throw up.
    “Are you sure we shouldn’t just take you to the emergency room? You look terrible.”
    “No. Please, just take me home. I usually feel okay in the morning. It’s just after lunch that I feel like shit. Isabel can follow in her car and drop you at your car. Please.”
    Isabel and Zavia exchanged worried looks, but in the end, they agreed to take Em at her word that she would go to the doctor first thing in the morning.
    Before leaving, Zavia made Em promise that she would call her if she didn’t feel like driving in the morning or if she began to feel worse that evening. Em promised, though she would have promised just about anything to be able to get into her bed and go to sleep.
    Em walked in the house and immediately headed for the kitchen. True to her word and because her inner hypochondriac was going nuts, she grabbed the phone and made an emergency appointment with her doctor for the next morning. She then grabbed her saltines and a big glass of water and went to bed. She’d worry about not having finished her will in the morning, if she lived through the night.
    Emmalyn spent exactly three hours at the doctor’s office. Fifteen minutes were spent drawing blood and waiting for the doctor to tell her how much longer she had to live. Two hours and forty-five minutes were spent reviving Emmalyn and making sure she was okay to drive after her doctor told her she wasn’t dying, and that she was, instead, pregnant.
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    E mmalyn spent the next three days in bed. She refused to answer her phone, respond to texts, or open her door when her concerned friends stopped by. On the fourth day, Emmalyn’s sickness went away completely, and her appetite was back in full force. She dragged herself down to the kitchen to find the pantry and the refrigerator completely bare of anything but alcohol. It dawned on her that she really hadn’t eaten in days and hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks. Her hand instinctively went to her belly. Her mind hadn’t accepted the truth of her condition, but her body had. She went back to her bedroom, arguing with herself about whether she should order food in or head to the grocery store. She had no clue what pregnant women ate. She tried to remember what Zavia ate while pregnant, but all she