Sickness (Closed)

It was official. Agnes was done with this shit. The whole world could go crawl down a hole and Agnes wouldn't care. Everything in the Great Hall was disgusting. Everything. Agnes hadn't found something suitable to eat, because everything was just simply nasty. The smell of food was everywhere, to make things worse. It was like some jerk was carrying around a ham in case he or she got hungry in class. "Seriously, who does that?!" Agnes exclaimed as she made her way out of the classrooms to the Great Hall. Maybe they would have real food today, and maybe she could eat something. Truth was, she was starving. She was really, really hungry. But she didn't want any of that British food. She wanted real, authentic, legit tacos. Like, the real Mexican kind. None of that Britishly fake Mexican food.

As she arrived, she glanced at the many people eating and gulping their food and beverages. It. Was. Disgusting. Her stomach crawled inside out at the look of so many greasy, nasty hands touching bread and fruit and chicken. The chewing noises were the worst. Everything was gross, but the chewing....that killed Agnes. Suddenly, she felt the immense urge to throw up right there, because that's how repulsive everything looked, and at some point in the way from the door to the Gryffindor table, Agnes gagged at the smell of chicken. Deciding it was best to stay in bed for the day, again, Agnes took an orange and ran out.