Vomit Fever

• Alak Nai, Grade 5
• Poetry
• 2008

Name: Alak Nai
Age: 11
Address: 7 Greengable Court Croydon Hills
Grade Level: 5
School: Sacred Heart Primary School Croydon





Vomit Fever

I anxiously smile; I look at my tea then at gran, mum and dad. Gran looks
really eager for me to drink it, but I can’t. Her deep brown eyes twinkle
behind a pair of rectangular, gold wire-rim glasses. Mum and dad mouth
‘Drink it’. The tea looks disgusting; the cup has green slimy things
floating on top that look like slugs. The tea is a pale brown that doesn’t
look very pleasant to drink. The cup looks like it hasn’t been washed for
a long time; its rim has dark brown mould all around it.
As I take the cup to my face, I feel beads of sweat form on my neck. I
gently put my mouth on the cup. I try to put it on the place with the
least amount of mould but I can’t. The mould feels funny on my lips, it
feels furry and old.
I quiver from the smell of the tea; it has a strong smell of vomit. I take
a tiny gulp of the tea, it’s gross, I hate it. It slowly slithers down my
throat, like a slimy snail slowly going down a tunnel. It tastes warm but
gross. I put the tea down and politely smile at gran signaling that the
tea is lovely, which it isn’t.
I reach for a biscuit, I feel my hands trembling, I don’t want to have a
biscuit. The biscuit looks soggy and looks weird from other biscuits. I
take it up to my mouth, I open my mouth and bite, it’s revolting. I
start munching on it, but it’s too wet and soggy, I feel the biscuit stick
to my teeth. I quickly swallow it; I feel the biscuit stick to my throat,
I try coughing it out but it still stays stuck. I start to feel panicky
and I can’t breathe, so I reach for my tea and I take a HUGE gulp. It
doesn’t make it any better, it makes it worse. The tea makes the biscuit
slimy but it still stays stuck in my throat.
The taste of slimy biscuit stuck in my throat is dreadful. I feel
something push the biscuit up my throat, It feels watery and warm, I know
what it is, It’s vomit.
I feel the vomit quickly fill my mouth up. I swiftly put my hand on my
mouth, dad glares at me warning me not to throw up, but it’s too late, I
throw up everywhere on gran’s beautiful white silky sofa. I see chunky
orange and yellow things that look like carrot and the remains of the
slimy biscuit that made me throw up. I look at mum, her face turns pale
green, she throws up too. I see dad burry his face into his hands, I can see he wants to burry his whole body into his hands.

At least I’m not the only one he’s going to be mad at.