Evolved

Part One. Crazy.

The room was dark and hazy when she woke. The smell of fruit toast wafted beneath the bedroom door. 

Her dreams that night had left her in a foul mood, but she could not recall them anymore—just shadows and voices. 

She turned over and groaned to see there were only five minutes before her alarm was due to wake her. Begrudgingly, deciding not to close her eyes and savour those precious minutes like usual, she got up and stretched her aching muscles.

"Hera?" a tired voice called up to her.

A sigh escaped her lips as she dragged her feet across the plush carpet.

She quickly responded while fumbling for the light switch, dressing in jeans, a tank top, and an olive bomber. The jacket was well worn, and the dark jeans were fading. She thought about how cold the weather had been and decided on an extra layer before leaving her bare room and closing the door behind her. 

The sweet smell of cinnamon and raisin toast was stronger now, causing Hera to salivate. 

The hallway was empty. The walls were unlike most homes in that they were void of loving pictures of Hera growing up. No unapologetic toothless grin from a testing child, no brooding headshots of a sullen teenager. For twelve years in this home with her dear aunt Jacqueline, there was nothing to show.

Jackie was a young woman when she first took in Hera, but her health and youth deteriorated over the years until she looked like a shell of the person she used to be. Yet, while her body grew more tired, her dark eyes never failed to light up when they fell upon Hera, hiding the ever-growing ache in her body. 

Over the past few months, her fragility had amplified from the stress of Hera's start to University. After the orientation week, Jackie was bedridden for two weeks. That morning though, she had prepared a quaint meal for them both and sat slightly slumped at the breakfast bar waiting for Hera to join her.

She hesitantly made her way over, worried this was some second wind before Jackie's body gave out for good. 

Jackie smiled as she saw Hera and offered her four freshly made pieces of fruit toast and a glass of orange juice. She ate quickly and gulped the liquid down before Jackie had finished her two pieces. 

The air between them was anxious, but Jackie reached out and laid her hand across Hera's, instantly calming her. Her frail hands tremored slightly. She quickly pulled them back, hiding them in her lap.

"Finish getting ready and head off before you end up late for your first class." Jackie looked pointedly at Hera, who almost rolled her eyes.

"I'm never late, and anyway, it doesn't feel like I'm learning much anyway because of these weird migraines I keep getting." 

Those first few months of University felt like a lifetime. Each day the migraines grew in intensity. At one point, she thought she could hear a voice in her head, different from her own, whispering a warning. 

Then she could sense the students. The room and even the air itself felt like electricity on her skin, making her feel like she would blackout on the spot. 

Deep down, Hera was terrified she was going crazy and would end up locked away and alone.

When that migraine hit in her anthropology lecture, one of her old high school classmates, Joel, reached out to her and asked if she was alright. Thankfully, the sensations and pain stopped, but she was losing control, and others noticed. 

Hera could never tell Jackie that, though. It was too frightening and too stressful to put that knowledge on the shoulders of an already dying woman. Hera's aunt reached out again, but this time, she placed her hand beside hers without touching.

Her mouth pulled into a smile, but for the first time, it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It will pass, Hera. It's just the stress. Once you get through University, you can do anything you want, live your life and be normal." 

The tiniest emphasis on the word 'normal' made Hera uneasy. Whatever was happening to her sure didn't feel normal. 

She stood up, gathered her belongings, and packed them into a black duffel. They said their goodbyes, and Hera crossed the neat living room to the door, dreading the possibility of another migraine attack. 

She didn't see the look of fear in Jackie's eyes as she walked out the door and closed it behind her. 

Hera also didn't hear the quiver in her voice as she called an old friend and asked for a favour.

...

It had only been twenty minutes since Hera left the house, but she knew that Monday was going to be grim. 

Hera tried to walk with conviction like Jackie tried to instil in her through adolescence but lost all composure when a blue sedan drove through a puddle, drenching her new vans. She swore after them; her anger only amplified seeing the occupants laughing with one another. 

She was too close to the bus stop to run home and change and too late to risk missing the bus. But, unfortunately, her brief pause of indecision cost her as she reached her stop. 

Hera missed the first bus by a hair and watched helplessly as it pulled away from the curb, too far to run after.

Anxiety shot through her system while waiting impatiently for the next bus. When it finally arrived, it was so packed that Hera had to jam herself against a pole and a pale, sweaty middle-aged woman. 

The frustration of the morning was taking its toll. A bead of sweat had broken out along her nape and a slight ache formed over her eyes. She took a few deep breaths and tried to write it off as reasonable feelings rather than the beginning of another migraine. 

Once Hera finally arrived at the campus, she headed straight to her first class. 

Gritting her teeth, Hera walked around the hoards of ambling students. She pointedly stared back at a group of guys who stopped dead centre on the path to look at a video on their phone. When one of the students met her eyes, he dared to wink at her. She rolled her eyes so hard she felt like they would fall into the back of her head. Hera huffed an annoyed breath out as she walked through the lecture hall. 

 Already late, she made her way to the back row as the lecturer spoke of the importance of attendance and timeliness to pass all the classes. 

Rude.

Hera noticed Joel sitting on the next row nearest the aisle and flushed with embarrassment, remembering their last encounter. She didn't see him on the way in, so he must have been late too. Not that she cared too much about his decisions, Hera hardly knew him, except that his dad was her high school homeroom teacher.

Taking out her books and pen, she drew her attention to the lecture at hand; psychology. They were learning about mental illness, schizophrenia, borderline personality disorder, and psychosis. 

Hera felt herself getting hot as the professor read out the symptoms for each disorder. When she dwelled on her own episodes too long, she realised she fit many criteria easily. 

During her first migraine at University months ago, she swore she could sense the molecules around her, undulating. Each object that made up the room had its vibration aching to be changed somehow. 

Even the atoms within her body craved release. 

Hera felt out of control but at the same time impossibly powerful. With this new information, she realised fearfully she was fucking nuts.