Within The Word Fate

Chapter 6 - Confrontations

   My brain galloped in circles. My heart raced and slowed. My breathing hitched before it came back to normal. And so it goes on. I turned left and back to right. I sat up straight holding myself together and fell back to the pillow. I got sprawled at the couch, the bed, the floor—nothing helped, nothing was comfortable.

The heater suddenly became too warm and a minute later it was still too cold.

I was losing it. I was losing myself.

I was me, just a day ago. Now I'm lost in a web trying to get me back together. But who is me? Has she not completely lost her saintly?

I skipped school today hoping to avoid Zachary. I wondered if he'd come again. Yet again, why wouldn't he? Something about his name made my hair stick out. What happened, yet again, do I really want to know?

I felt my head fall back against the cold pillow. My eye lids exhaustedly closed peacefully to darkness. The darkness wasn't peaceful, it was taunting. I wanted to blink them back open, but they were too heavy. My resistance was too weak compared. My vision blurred with green, trees, round eyes and dark fur. No particular image, just a haze. It flicked something inside me. Like they should be reminders, but I couldn't remember anything but fear. Fear, but from an unknown source. The harder I tried to remember, the more faint I felt.

I could see a dog, a huge dog. He looked innocent and adorable with huge watery eyes. I walked closer towards him in a steady pace until I was merely a couple of inches away. I could feel the comforting warmth radiating from his skin. He hesitantly lowered his head to brush it against my left cheek. I stiffened at his unexpected move, but as soon as he felt it he moved his head up again. I was about to pat his head, but because I was too short; I went for his right limp. Almost like on cue that I had been fooled by his deceiving looks, all the innocence from before was gone and I could now see his sharp fangs. He didn't hesitate on making the move of pouncing on me and I quickly raised my hand in front on my face as I tilted it to the side defensively. My eyes were tightly shut close. I waited for his weight to come over me--.

"I'm sorry," a familiar voice whispered.

  My eye lids flicked open. I gulped and closed them tightly again. The bright sunlight burned my eyes. I heard talking voices inside my room, but I couldn't make out any as I cried out, "Close it! Close the curtains,"

   I felt something soft brush my hand comfortably. My eyes fluttered back open hesitantly. I blinked before my pupil got small enough to adjust the least bit of light. I saw a hand on top of my right one and immediately recognized the owner of those fragile, soft hands. My Mom. I looked at her with utter guilt when my eyes met her worried and tired ones.

"What did you do exactly? Did you skip your medicines?" My mom's voice was urgent. She reffered my mere daily vitsmin pills.

I shook my head, unsure, "Why? What happened?" I was curious.

"You fainted. You were unconscious when we came back from work yesterday. We called the doctor, he checked you up, allowed you to take your rest. Your temperature varied like a broken game—It was crazy—" my mom wasn't content at all. She blurted it all out like I was no more. It scared me for her.

"Hey, mom," I cupped her hand between both of mine, "I'm awake now. I'm fine, It's okay," I assured her. I felt the need to comfort her.

She stayed by my side for the rest of the day. She wanted to know what happened, how did I become so week, but I had nothing to tell her. So I made up a quick lie. She took care of me like I was barely five, which very much annoyed me, but I had no say in it. I fed supposedly useful food and I had to swig more than three disgusting pills. My dad came home and they started giving me unnecessary lectures. They called my school and informed them about my sickness. They said I might take two more days of relief.

I thought I said I was fine more than I say my name. I tried to get some school work done. Jane and Cass came over to see if I was fine. Ian was nowhere to be seen. It almost made me frown for the entire day. The girls said they haven't seen him at school today either. My parent though seemed to be hiding something unsettling about him when I asked. They didn't confront me about it only after major efforts that literally didn't work. They just got sick of my nagging eventually.

At last they finally explained calmly that he was being home handled my a group  of nurses, because apparently he got in trouble with delinquents. God only know where'd he find those delinquent and what sort of trouble was it exactly. I couldn't imagine him doing something so rash. I wanted to see him, make sure he's fine and then squeeze his neck to death for getting me worried and then decide if I should give in for a confrontation. Of course my parents didn't allow me to even get off the bed. 

They soon left and I was left all alone to the darkness. Every night I woke up to the same dream. Some nights it got more afflicting that I'd wake up panting crazily, some nights I'd just wake up frowning. Both ways, I never slept after. If I could, I don't think I could have ever slept again. But only a few hours of sleep can keep me up until dawn.

The rest of the week was school free. It wasn't frankly the best idea, but my parents insisted that I rest. They were right though, day and the after; my sour muscle relaxed further, my health ascended and looked less gruffer. Though the nagging thoughts remained and erupted a goosebumbs of fear every time I tried to think over.

Eventually I was let off the hook. And just by our luck, it was the same day that Ian was completely healed too. He said it was nothing to fuse about. Just a couple of street boys that needed to be thought a lesson. So smug he was. Doubtlessly, he was the one that got into the hospital. He had a huge pocket-knife cut just above his stomach. The rage I felt then towards him when I saw that cut cannot be put to words. I wanted to beat him up, but just as much,  I wanted to hug the life out of him just to make sure that he was still there and fine. I accomplished both.

We spent the rest of the day together, mingling and doing nothing in particular. Surprising Ian didn't ask about what Zachary had wanted that night. I was more than grateful. What could I have possibly told him? 'I don't know,' couldn't have been taken for an answer. I tried, more than racked my brain for answers, but it all just remained blocked. I couldn't think of anything. All the small hints became nothing but an unfathomable haze.