Winged Girl

Chapter 7

   Mary stared down at the stuff released from my body in alarm and broke into cold sweat. Everyone froze instantly as her voice whispered, alarming them at the moment the words slipped,out of her mouth.
   I gawked at the jaw-dropping mess on the floor. I wasn't just a radiant gold puddle, golden nuggets shimmered and shone at me, shouting my name so loud that I wish I wasn't petrified so I could cover my ears and block out the frightening screeches.
   John tardily stood up from his caring, crouching position and backed away with an aghast look glued on his face. He stumbled across the corridor and dashed out of my front door, away from my house. The others, not knowing what to do, followed him, leaving me and Mary alone. Oh, Mary... always the last one to leave.
   "Maleficent, you okay?"
   "I don't know what happened," I sobbed. "My gut just started burning then... then this happened!" Then I broke out into uncontrollable tears and cried a river, flooding the whole house.
   "It's okay, Mal. It's okay. Calm down, it's probably just the amount of cake you had."
Thudthudthud.
   Footsteps travelled down the stairs and ran to me and a shadow stooped over me.
   "What's wr-" The sentence was interrupted by a gasp as I lifted a viciously trembling finger and touched on one of the golden nuggets with a touch of a feather. Instantaneously, it reduced to a hoard of melon-yellow dust and lost its brilliant shimmer.
   Not needing to even look behind my shoulders, I felt jaws drop behind me and stunned eyes burning holes in the wooden planks in front of me where the gold pieces lay. I froze and pondered in what to do next.
   "Mary?"
   "Mhm"
   "Don't tell anyone. Please."
   "Mhm"
   Silence reigned the room as I we stood in shock and deep in thought.
   "Mary..."
   "Mhm"
   "I think you... you should go..."
   As if awaken by my words she trudged away, gathered her things(I assumed) and went.
   I shuddered and rose from my contorted position. Mild heat began baking my forehead. Great. All I needed was a fever on my birthday.
   "Mom, I really should get some rest, I guess. I'm heating up." I told Mother who was still recovering from the sudden impact.
    Since she didn't look like she was going to move a muscle any sooner, I quickly hurried up the stair and flung over the wooden door and letting it shut with a big bang! I snuggled up as heat wreathed its arms around me, embracing me, forcing me into my magical world, into unconsciousness.
   Despite the comforting swelter surrounding me, I stared up at the white ceiling, deep in blank thought, recapping what had just happened. But for some reason my mind could not put the experience into words, troubling me.
   I shut my eyes, fell into a pit of black void, swaying and rocking until I dreamt of falling down a cliff. But when I reached the ground, I was jerked awake.
   Must be those annoying sleep jerks again. I sighed. What if it was because I slept in the afternoon already? I shook the idea from my mind. Then why am I so exhausted? I never feel tired when I'm sick. I exhaled sharply, peeved. I drew the curtains behind the windows of my soul once again and counted imaginary sheep until my soul left and soared above the magical land.