The Mercy of Birds

CHAPTER 35: POOR STARGAZER

"What are you doing?"

She perked up just as she saw Nicholas standing on the landing, looking down on her. He had changed clothes but the way he flippantly dressed himself remained the same, with his long-sleeved cotton t-shirt that was shoved away obliquely to his shoulders. She swore that the last time she saw that bird tattoo on him, it was on his left, but now he also bared it on his right, so he had two? Or was she truly losing her mind?

Her thoughts transported her to the time when Martina had tried giving her those red pills—for her hallucinations, she had said. Perhaps this was why everything was happening to her. She shouldn't have refused them, but Cameron hadn't mentioned anything about it and didn't dole her the same pills after that isolated incident whenever it was time for her to medicate. What was happening?

"Clementine!" Nicholas shouted in front of her and she jolted to find his face suddenly so near to her as he sat down on the last step of the staircase, gazing at her in perplexion.

She glanced down to find his hand grabbing her arm and she shuffled away as he released her.

"You literally froze for a minute. I was about to call Cameron," he explained and it didn't make her feel better as she dropped her gaze on the clutter on the floor, picking up on her attempt at cleaning it.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked as he watched her with a newfound interest.

What the hell is wrong with me?

What happened to me?

What did I do?

It seemed like all of their exchanges almost always required an unfortunate situation befalling them in this house for it to happen. Why must something occur in order for you to speak to me? Why are you looking at me like that? Yes, I fucking killed our dad and Carson and Lissandra and who knows how many other collateral damage there was, but is there not a part of me that isn't defined by my sin?

"No, there isn't," she mumbled through gritted teeth. "You're a fucking murderer!"

"What?" Nicholas perked up. He couldn't make up what she just said, but he was sure that there was a word there.

She shook her head immediately, emotions burst out of her like a deluge, assailed with the sudden urge to explain herself. "I didn't do anything... I didn't hurt Victor yesterday. You have to believe me. I didn't hurt him. I didn't lay a hand on him. You should know. I was just trying to help—"

"Stop," he cut her off, his expression unreadable. "Stop talking, just fix your mess."

She bit her lips to prevent from apologizing, nodding her head instead. She cringed when she accidentally nudged the box on the floor until it clattered. A sudden impulse overcame her again and she wanted to throw it all away, vexed by herself. It didn't help that Nicholas was watching her with his inquisitive eyes, piercing her like knives; her nerves only grew, so she decided to abandon the remnants of the beads and sweep it with a broom later. Meanwhile, she needed to get into her room and compose herself right now. She also had to find those red pills.

She gathered to her feet almost too fast, sending dizzy spells on her head, but she bore them when she made her way past him with the box tucked against her stomach. "Sorry, excuse me."

She strode away to her room as swift as her feet could carry her without looking like she was running, and by the time she reached the third floor, she was panting. She slammed her door shut and placed the box on her night stand as she dropped to the floor and peeked under the bed to see if she could find what she was looking for. The color was prominent, she couldn't miss it.