I Need Advil

I hear a constant thumping. My brain is knocking on my skull, demanding to get out. I hold my head in my arms. I make tunes in my head going with the beat to distract myself. But I eventually end up thinking about my desperate need to Advil. This raging headache begins like clockwork, as soon as I slam my door from a big, verbal fight with my mom.
We never used to fight like this. I remember getting along great with my mom throughout elementary school. One day when I was younger, my mom was battling with my sister, who was in high school at the time. After my sister had stormed out, she turned to me and said softly, "Bridget, promise me we won't fight like this when you are older."
"I promise." I spoke softly, too, only for us to hear. It was a bonding moment for us, and i truly believed we would never fight like my mom and my sister did. We made an agreement, I will not drive her crazy and make her gray hair grow faster if she would not "ruin my life." She kept her promise, why couldn't I?
My reminiscing was interuppted by a knock at the door. I slowly approached it and cracked it open. There, my mom stood in my doorway with Advil and a glass of water in hand. I finally surrendered.