Amelia POV.
I am curled up in my bed. Wearing my period clothes, as I call them. Which consist of my comfy granny pants, my baggy sweats, sports bra, and hoodie with the hood up. I look like Kenny from South Park.
I have my hot water bottle shoved inside the joint front pockets of the hoodie against my belly and I’m high from the pain meds. The pain is just niggling, so without the pain meds, the pain would be torture. Like red-hot pokers stabbing me and then pulling my guts out. Yes, I’m dramatic, but I don’t care. I’m in pain and I am allowed to feel sorry for myself.
When the pain hits out of the blue, it steals my breath. To the point I have to grip on something to stop me from falling to my knees.
The first time it happened, I was crossing the street, and I fell to my knees screa
