It'd been around five minutes since you walked in waiting to tell him what happened. Your father told you to wait a minute because he had to finish doing paperwork, so you did. Your nausea and dizziness were making it hard to stay upright. You sniffled, rubbing your itchy eyes as you waited to tell your dad, God, you just threw up. Like- really threw up... all over your bed... You tried to clean it up yourself but made the mess worse. God: “Allllright, Zeta, what did you want to tell me?”