Let Your Fantasies Unwind

Chapter 19

A few hours later, he returns with another glass tube filled with the same red thick liquid. After I finish drinking it all down, he tended to a few things around my room, like leaving a glass of water on the bedside table, along with soft foods that won't go bad with just sitting on the bedside table, like bread and some saltine crackers.

'They have these at this time? I guess.' I eat a few when Erik leaves. I also take a sip of water.

I snuggle into the blankets and still flinch at the small aches from my neck.

'It's definitely getting better, but I'm bedridden! This is so llllaaaammmmeeeee! I could be doing my chores, something that Erik's supposed to do now. He says it's fine that he's doing them...but I do the chores! He does...the hauntings.' I sigh.

Footsteps head my way. A knock sounds at the door. "Enfant? Are you okay?" Erik enters.

I give a shrug, showing indifference.

"You want to talk, don't you?" I nod. He gives a light-hearted snort. "Thought so. I have an idea. I don't want you to talk vocally, even though that's probably what you desire, but rather over paper. How does that sound?"

I smile at an unconscious pun. I nod my head to tell him it's a good idea. He walks over to the desk in my room, digs through a drawer to find a pad of paper and a pencil.

"Here, you start. Write down what is on your mind." He hands me the pad and pencil.

I quickly scratch down the fact that I'm bedridden is bothering me, how I feel guilty about how he has to do my chores, and I hesitate to write down the fact that I'm jealous of both him and Christine.

"Having trouble wording something?" he asks, in a light, almost joking manner. I nod. "Take your time. We've got all day." He sits in the chair that's with the desk.

'If I write down the jealously, he might feel pressured, and then go crazy mode and might make me do chores, despite my injuries. He might give more, and nothing to treat them with. Best not to write it down then.'

I end up writing a small piece of trivia about myself down instead and then give the pad to Erik, by stretching my arm out as far as it can go. He perks up immediately, like he was bored out of his mind, waiting for me to finish writing. He snatches the pad impatiently and swiftly reads what I wrote.

"Fille, I told you: I'm fine with doing your chores in the meantime. You're just injured a little, so why should I force you to work if you are not well? That reminds me, I have to wash my sheets..." he pauses for a minute. "As for being bedridden: too bad. You're injured, so I am trying to make you get better faster. You should try being more patient." He smirks, mockingly.

Instantly flared up, I wave my hands around like an idiot to show the expression, 'What the hell dude!'

He laughs. "I knew you would do that. Here's some good news though: your bruises should go away in about ten days." I look alarmed. "It's ten days, or longer than a fortnight. Which do you prefer?"

I make my body posture to show I feel defeated. He walks over to the bed and sits on the edge, next to me, or as close as he could get. He puts a hand on my upper arm.

"Megan, look at me." I turn to look at him. "You'll be fine. Even better, you will be okay and healed up. I do not want you walking around, with the potential of getting injured some more. I know you can find the loophole. You are clumsy so there's always the potential of you getting injured." He pauses. "I noticed that you are. Don't be alarmed. Back to the point, you're injured, and your sick mind is bound to mess up, or at least not pay as much attention to a certain detail as your normal state of mind would."

I tilt my head one way to show I'm confused. I yelp softly under my action. He sighs, slightly disappointed.

"I know you don't totally understand, but I just want you to get better too, okay?" I nod and give a half-hearted smile. He smiles in return. "Alright. Get some rest, as best as you can. I'll be back later with some more. I am also sorry the liquid isn't tasty. Should I try the next time, or are you going to just fight your way through?"

"The latter." I rasp. I mouth, 'Sorry.'

He gets up, pats my head in a small, hesitant and gentle manner, then leaves the room, leaving me to rest, and to go make more of the medicine, or whatever he has to do.

I set the pillows in a way that won't hurt my neck, and have the top blanket, comforter, or whatever its proper name is, cover only the bottom half of me. I think slowly and calmly, and eventually drift off to sleep.

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Hey, a short chapter! These definitely won't last!