[center][h1][color=DodgerBlue]Ciel[/color][/h1]
[url=https://postimg.org/image/m5r9kgtfx/][img]https://s14.postimg.org/67ijubz81/giphy.gif[/img][/url][url=https://postimage.org/][/url][/center]
[hr][center] Location - Back of the truck, heading towards Newnan [/center][hr]


The first few minutes after Ciel woke up, he didn't really realize that anything had changed. He was still nauseous and delusional, which felt much the same as when he was out cold. He barely had the energy to open his eyes, and his breathing was so poor he felt like he was suffocating. Even with his eyes open, it didn't make a difference. His vision was nothing but a colorless blur. He couldn't speak, hear, see or move, so it took him a long time to realize that he was conscious again. 

He coughed weakly, gagging and retching as he began to vomit again, bile staining his left cheek and coating a few locks of his pale hair. He didn't bring up much as nothing much was left in his stomach. He was miserable and severely dehydrated, barely conscious and terribly delirious. He never would have done this if he were more lucid, but the eleven year old took in a hoarse gasp for air as tears began to trickle down his cheeks. He'd been sick before countless times, but this was the lowest moment of his life, which only spanned a little more than a decade. He felt like he was at death's doorstep, and he was far from the only one. IF he died today, he certainly wouldn't be the first.