Flash Fiction Challenge #9 – Pain

“I don’t like any of this, Paul.  It’s bordering on sophomoric idiocy.  What would your Mom say about all this?”

Paul slowly lifted his head out of the toilet bowl and tried to focus.   It was no use, everything was still a blur.

“Will you stop talking?  Can’t you see how sick I am?”   Paul tried rolling on his right hip to the tile floor but lost control and hit the floor hard eliciting a small squeak of pain.

“Just blame me for everything, Linds, like everyone else does.”  Paul leaned back against the bathroom wall but misjudged the distance and hit the back of his head.  There was another squeak of pain.

Lindsay looked down at her nephew and let out a huge sigh. “Get up you miscreant, you royal pain in my ass! We have to talk about this.  It’s getting out of hand!”

Paul’s eyes were beginning to focus. He could see Lindsay’s shoes.  Clogs.  No, she called them mules. Didn’t matter, they were ugly.  Crap, maybe I should kill Linds instead?  Mom would probably appreciate it. Wait, Linds isn’t talking.  Crap, did I say all that out loud?

Suddenly Paul felt the hair on the top of his head being pulled.  Lindsay had hold of a clump of hair and was tugging, hard.  Paul made another squeak of pain.  This bathroom is a room of horrors.

“Lindsay, ow, ow, let go!  What the hell are you doing?”

“Oh, do I have your attention now, bucko?”  Lindsay let go of his hair and knelt beside him.  She stared hard at Paul’s sickly face.  She wanted so badly to slap it.

“I hope you’re happy with your recent behavior, preppy…”

“Shut up, Linds.  Just say what you need to say and leave.   I need to lie down.”

“Listen, somebody has got to make a decision, Mr. Self-absorbed.  You can’t leave her in limbo like that.  It’s been a week and there’s no sign that she’ll make a comeback.  Dr. Bratt talks to me every time I go see her…”

“Linds,  he’s getting paid, isn’t he?  So what’s the big deal with him?   I’ve made my decision not to make a decision at this time.  That’s my decision, now go away.”

The urge to slap his face was growing stronger. ” I can make the decision if you’re not up to it.  We should give our decision to Dr. Bratt by… let’s say, by tomorrow.  What do you think, person who shares my DNA?”

Paul looked at Lindsay through his bloodshot eyes.  She was trying to accommodate him.  He had heard his Mom demean her for as long as he could remember.  They hated each other. Linds was the only one in the family who would take on Mom. She was old enough to be Lindsay’s mother…

“Okay, Linds.  But I want to see my dog one last time before they do it.  She was my best friend.”

“OH, PLEEEEZE… she lived with me, jerkwad.

Prompt:   “Listen, somebody has got to make a decision.”