"Fuck," Robert muttered, feeling the headache he’d been having all morning suddenly getting worse. So he stopped, pulled his back pack of his shoulders and started looking through it. "Fuck," he mumbled again. "Can’ find ma’ fucking pills." He’d most surely forgotten them at home, how bloody typical.

Robert put his hands over his forehead, dropping the backpack to the ground, to rub his temples and ease the pain that was quickly spreading, getting worse and settled behind hi eyes, making his vision blurry.