Skylar

I wake to the unwelcome sensation of my stomach churning, a familiar wave of nausea cresting within me. I peel myself from the bed silently, every muscle in my body tensed against the discomfort. My feet find the cool floorboards as I stumble through the predawn shadows, clutching at my roiling stomach. The last thing I want is to disturb the rest of my mates with this persistent malaise that has become my unwanted companion.

The bathroom door creaks softly as I nudge it ...