Super Bad (Completed 2013)

‡ Chapter 13 ‡

Those words infected my mind, touching every nerve and freezing it until I numbed.  Any consciousness had gone astray.  Someone wanted me.  They wanted me to belong.  I felt light headed. 

His face looked stricken and he rose up so fast, he chair fell back.  “Jess!”  His voice was so harsh, so abrupt I nearly jumped out of my skin.  Fear settled in the pit of my stomach for I hadn’t seen him quite stricken.  “Stop it!”

My mouth was lost.  I remained embedded to the ground as he jumped off his chair, snatched my arm, his grip squeezing a wince past my lips.  He called for the emergency nurses, but my mind had disappeared.  My eyelids weighed a ton, and I glanced down to see what he was shouting about. 

Dark, crusty rashes engulfed my left arm.  Nail carvings slashed my skin, blood leaking onto the floor.  I sensed the rash spread, attacking my body at terrifying speeds.  The itch amplified waves of indescribable irritation that burnt hell into my flesh.  People touched my arms.  I was floating.  Bright lights blurred past my head.  

My ringing ears processed the voice in muffles, “Take...care...of...her...”

And then I drowned.

†‡††‡‡

I was drowning. 

My eyes shot open and I gasped, water ingesting my throat.  I surfaced and coughed, bending over the glass tube.  Vomiting the nauseating clear substance, I sat up.  My breathing came in shallow gasps, eyes growing hazy before I shook my head. 

What was going on...

I slicked my raven hair back and relaxed at the sight of the healing room.  A familiar figure stood by another tube, hands together behind him.  “The magic of that water is wonderful, isn’t it?” he spoke. I averted my gaze, noting I was naked and mentally thanked him for having his back to me.  Anxious, I staggered onto the cool tiles and seized a robe.  “You remember anything?” he asked, turning.  His face was blank as always, studying my movements. 

I tightened the fuzzy belt.  “I haven’t had the chance to attempt recalling my memories.” 

I hoped he didn’t assume I freaked because of his confession.  Which possibility could have been why I broke out.  My cheeks flamed and I avoided his eyes.

Not noticing, he walked towards the door and continued, “Would you like to hear what happened?” 

Curiosity was a human nature that seemed to weaken the individual, the desire of knowledge hard to resist.  “I would like to,” I answered, following after him. 

He entered the underground halls, the tunnels busy as usual.  “You broke into a terrible rash, and it covered your entire body, head to toe.  You couldn’t stop scratching, eventually bleeding and causing serious skin cell damage.  The doctors believe it was another side effect of the drug.  They believe immediate anxiety triggered the response.” 

We quickened our pace up the spiralled staircase, my eagerness strengthening as I observed this new chamber.  There was only a handful of Snipers prowling down this underground route, my ears able to hear the water drops and creaking pipes. 

I squinted as I talked, the lights dimmer, “How come the side effect is happening now?” 

“Perhaps you were never extremely stressed before,” he suggested as we hit a dead end. 

That made no sense.  Surely I had experienced some form of anxiety during my life.  So I drilled my brain for an example.  And nothing snagged my interest.  Now that I thought of it, I was never stressed.  Throughout kindergarten and high school, I had kept my opinions and secrets to myself.  I remained a wallflower, my social group consisting of only Isaac.  I studied for tests and obeyed the rules.  Never slept past curfew, and my nose was constantly buried inside of books instead of people’s business.  The teachers didn’t pay much attention to me, and neither did anyone really, including my parents with their long days.  There was a warm bed to come home to, fresh food stocked in my fridge, I was financially supported and had loving Aunt Darby, Aunt Klaire, and Uncle Chris.  I had Isaac.  People who loved me.