Elio-

The blaring sound of my alarm clock cuts through the darkness of my room, pulling me from a fitful sleep. I fumble to turn it off, but the effort only intensifies the throbbing in my head. I sit up slowly, feeling a wave of nausea and dizziness roll over me. Yesterday, I’d sensed something wasn’t quite right- a dull ache and fatigue that hinted at a migraine that’s now fully set in. 

I drag myself out of bed, each step a chore as I head to the bathroom. My reflection in the mirror shows a pale version of myself that looks like I haven’t slept at all. The usual morning routine seems like an insurmountable task, but I force myself to wash up, brush my teeth, and get dressed even as my hands are shaking as I button my shirt. Today’s a big day- soccer game after school, and I can’t afford to miss it. The thought of letting down my teammates keeps me moving, despite the nausea and the relentless pounding behind my eyes. 

Downstairs, the smell of breakfast wafts through the air, but it does little to settle my stomach. I enter the kitchen, where Mom and Dad are already at the table. They both look up when I walk in, their expressions shifting to concern. 

“Hey, tesoro,” Mom says, her voice gentle. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” I reply, trying to muster a smile. “But I have to go to school. I can’t miss today.” 

Dad frowns as he sees my pale complexion and unsteady stance. “Elio, you don’t look well. Maybe you should lay back down.”

I shake my head, trying to steady myself as I lower myself into a chair. “I’m okay. I can handle it. I need to get Gia to and then head to class. I’ve got a soccer game later.”

Mom places a plate of toast and a mug of black coffee in front of me, but the sight only makes my stomach roll. I take a small bite of the toast. Before I can swallow, I feel a pool of spit rush into my mouth and another wave of dizziness and nausea.

I drop the toast and get to the sink as fast I can, just managing to get there before I start to vomit. The feeling of my stomach emptying itself is a mixture of relief and very painful as my dinner reappears because my migraine attacks slow my digestion. The bile in my mouth is harsh and bitter, and I gag until nothing is left and I am hiccuping. 

Mom is rubbing my back and whispering sweet nothings in Italian to me. “Oh, tesoro, I’m so sorry. Let’s get you settled.”

As soon as I’m done catching my breath, I wash out and wipe my mouth and feel the cold flush of sweat on my forehead. “I can go to school, Mom. Really. I need to-” 

Dad’s voice cuts through, rarely raised but not firm and uncompromising. “No, Elio. You’re not going to school today. I’m calling the school and telling them you're sick.”

I turn around, my vision blurring with unshed tears. “No, Dad, I can go. I’m not actually sick, it's just a migraine.”

Mom, still rubbing my back, nods towards Dad. “He’s right, Elio. You need to rest.”

I groan in defeat, feeling both anger and resignation. “Fine.” I mumble, too tired to argue anymore. 

I head to the living room and sink into the couch pulling a blanket up. Mom brings me a cold,damp cloth and my medicine. She places the cloth on my forehead and pops me two pills into my hand. 

“Just take these and try to relax,” she says softly. 

I take the medicine with a sip of water, then lay down and close my eyes, hoping the medicine will kick in soon. I try to focus on breathing slowly and evenly. I hear Gia come downstairs and then talk to Mom and Dad in the kitchen. And soon I hear the front door open and Gia whispering to me goodbye before hearing the door close and silence. 

The afternoon light filters through the living room windows through the blinds. I grab my glasses off the floor where I laid them before falling asleep. My head still hurts, but the medicine must’ve kicked in because I’m feeling less nauseous and the pounding in my head has subsided to a more manageable dull ache right behind my eyes. The blanket I wrapped myself in has slipped off and hanging off the couch, and the cool cloth that was on my forehead is beside me in the crack of the cushion and has grown slightly less damp and warmer. 

The sound of the voices drifts in from the kitchen, and I try to make out what they are saying. Mom’s voice is more distinct; she’s on the phone, her tone urgent yet calm. 

“...Yes, Dr. Bennett, he’s been experiencing these migraines since he was twelve. They’ve been getting worse lately.” Mom pauses. “Yes, I understand. He was able to keep some fluids down this morning, but he is still feeling very weak. What do you recommend?”

I try to sit up but wince at the sharp pain that shoots through my head. I reach for the blanket, pulling it closer. The conversation in the kitchen continues.

“Yes, he’s been taking the medication you prescribed. But it doesn’t seem to be as effective as it used to be.” Another pause. “I see. And would it be possible to schedule a follow-up appointment sooner?” I’m concerned about how frequent these episodes have become.”

I hear Dad’s voice then. “Is he awake yet?”

Mom’s voice lowers, and I hear her moving towards the living room. “Let me check on him.” 

I make a feeble attempt to sit up fully as Mom enters the room, her expression a mix of concern and relief. “Hey, Elio. How are you feeling?”

“Better I think,” I say, my voice hoarse. “What did Dr. Bennett say?”

Mom sits down beside me on the couch, reaching for the cloth. “We’re going to need to schedule a follow-up appointment. Dr. Bennett wants to review your medication and possibly look into some other treatments. He’s concerned that your current regimen isn’t working as well as it used to.”

Dad joins us, sitting in the armchair across from the couch. His face is lined with worry, but he offers a smile. “We’re doing everything we can to make sure you get the right treatment. We’re not giving up on finding something that will help.”

I nod. “I just wish these migraines would stop. It’s hard to keep up with everything.”

Mom strokes my hair gently. “I know, tesoro. It’s been tough, but we’re in this together. We’ll figure it out. For now, try to rest as much as you can. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Dad stands up, moving to the kitchen. “I’ll make some tea for you. Something light might settle your stomach.”

As he heads out, Mom remains by my side. “You just focus on getting better, okay? We’ll handle the rest.” 

The soft hum of the television fills the living room, providing a comforting background noise as I lounge on the couch. The migraine has finally faded, but I’m left with the kind of exhaustion that lingers long after the pain has subsided. I’ve taken a long, hot shower and changed out of my uniform into sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt. I sip gingerly at the tea Dad made for me. The room feels calmer now, with only the occasional sound of traffic outside breaking the quiet.

The front door swings open, and I hear Gia’s cheerful voice echoing through the hallway. “I’m home!” she calls out. I can hear her backpack thudding against the floor as she drops it. 

“Welcome home, Gia. How was school today?” Mom calls out from upstairs. 

Gia’s head pops around the corner, her face beaming with excitement. “It was great! We started a new project on space. I’m going to be working on the planets.” 

She spots me on the couch, and walks over. “Hey, Elio. How’re you feeling? Are you okay now? 

I manage a tired smile, lifting my tea cup in a small toast. “Yeah, I’m better. The migraine is gone, but I’m still pretty wiped out.” 

Gia perches on the edge of the couch. “You slept all day, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I admit. “I think I was asleep for most of it.”

Gia giggles. “Well, at least your head doesn’t hurt anymore. Do you have to go back to the doctor again?” 

I nod, taking another sip. “Yeah, they want to check things out and maybe adjust my medication. It’s just a rough patch.”

Gia nods. “I hope they figure out something that helps. It must be so annoying.”

“It is,” I agree. “But it’s okay.”

Mom comes over and places a hand on Gia’s shoulder. “Why don’t you start on your homework? I’ll join you soon.”

Gia gives me a quick hug and heads to her room. Mom takes a seat next to me. “Do you need anything else?” 

I shake my head. “No, I think I’m good. Just need to rest. Thanks for everything today, Mom.

She smiles warmly, brushing a lock of hair from my forehead. “You’re welcome, Elio. Just take it easy and let yourself recover.”

 As she gets up to follow Gia.The house feels calm and supportive, despite the fatigue that drapes over me like a heavy blanket, I can’t help but feel an inkling of relief.