Try To Change Me

Chapter 32

Salena was sick to her stomach. Each step took her one step closer to vomitting and her grip on her abdomen tightened in response. She felt light-headed, dizzy, and kept stumbling, but she knew this feeling was hardly vertigo.

No, she was absolutely, undeniably terrified. 

She wobbled, tripped, and she careened into the hedge that lined the footpath. She satchel caught on a twig, the strap interlacing through the foliage, and as she tried to step forward it tugged her back mercilessly. 

"Come on..." Salena moaned, giving it a few futile tugs. Something bubbled up into her lungs, a constricting force that compressed her lungs as she fought to keep her breathing even. She tore at the leaves, nails raking through the branches, and she attempted a deep breath. Halfway through the inhale, fear caught in her throat and she let out a spluttered cry and collapsed. She burst into tears as her knees hit the concrete, her weight finally freeing her bag. She sprawled across the path, burying her face in her hands as tears trailed across her cheeks. 

She hiccuped, sniffled, and dragged a sleeve across her eye as she fought for composure. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this. The mantra didn't help.

"What am I doing?" she asked herself, wiping at her  face. "This is crazy! It's impossible!"

She lowered her hands to her lap, staring at them as if they held the answers. Perhaps they do, she thought, clenching them into fists. If there was one thing Salena knew how to do it was compile facts. 'Dealing with it' could come later as long as she had a list. 

She held up one finger. "People are trying to get me." Another joined the first. "The same people are trying to get five of my peers." A third. "At least one of us has something wrong with them." 

She stared at the three fingers. Of all the thoughts flying around her head, these were the only three that she could cram onto simple digits. She swallowed and raised a fourth. "If I ever get home, I will die."

With another deep breath, this time without choking, Salena assessed her hand. Four problems. no solutions. As smart as she was, Salena was more than capable of doing that math.

"I am screwed."

A polite cough behind her was all it took for Salena to propel herself to her feet, scream and whirl around to face the stranger. At any other moment she would be impressed with her reaction time, but the man before her claimed all of her attention. He had reeled back at her response, eyes wide and hands raised cautiously in front of him. 

"Woah Miss," he cried, blinking rapidly at her. 'I just wanted to check you were ok."

Salena sucked air into her lungs, lowering her arms when she realised they had been raised as if to ward off a predator. Or to Salsa. Either way, not the most sane look. She swallowed and assessed him quickly. He looked about 40 with dark hair, glasses and a sweater-vest. As she watched, he let his own hands fall to his side, but they twitched anxiously at his sides. As if he was waiting for her to attack. Or waiting to attack. 

She shook her head, brushing suspicion from her mind. 

"You are ok, right?" he asked slowly, eyes darting down the street. He looked nervous, threatened, like he thought he might end up in the obituaries the next day if somebody didn't walk past soon.

"I'm..." Her voice came out scratchy and shrill, so she coughed and tried again. "I'm fine." He merely blinked, and the nausea returned to her stomach: maybe she had offended him? "Thank you for asking, but really."

He nodded, looking unconvinced, and he licked his lips and buried his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "Well.... can i walk you somewhere?" Salena's mouth dropped open to protest but he continued hurriedly. "You look awfully shaken up and I realise you don't know me from Adam but I swear I just want to make sure you're all right."