Taint (Formerly Claimed) Dark Midnight 1

Chapter 2

Her world disappeared in a flash of blue.  The doctors called it an ‘aura'—her only warning before a seizure.  

Just a tiny flash of indigo. 

It was a beautiful shade, ironically.  Like that of a perfect sky or a calm ocean.  It might have even been her favorite color, if it wasn’t for what always followed after.

After the blue…

The entire world went dark, like the aftermath of a particularly brutal punch to the head.  

Everything stopped like a train skidding to a halt.  

Then, the fear took hold—she could taste it.  A tiny metallic spot just there, on the tip of the tongue.  The same bitter flavor as when you unconsciously ran your tongue over a drop of blood. 

 The taste always made her cringe, but then…

Strangely enough, she never remembered much after that.  

A flash of indigo would appear, the fear would choke her, and the next moment she would wake up dazed and shaking on the floor. 

Sometimes the amnesia seemed like a blessing.  

Once she regained consciousness, she could almost pretend that the seizure had never happened—just a silly daydream that left her curled on her side with her heart pounding like mad in her chest.

Sometimes, not remembering was a good thing. 

But other times, like now, when she opened her eyes to nothing but the startled faces of her fourth period math class, not remembering didn’t seem wonderful.      

A part of her couldn’t help but wonder just why they looked so terrified.  The true reason why they stared down at her like they were afraid she was contagious.

She could read the fear in their faces…

“Miriam? Can you hear me?”

She dimly recognized the frantic voice of Mrs. Clarke, the math teacher. 

“Are you okay?”

No.  She wasn’t okay.  

Blood coated her tongue.  The familiar fear made her feel sick, shaky, sore—like she’d just run a million mile marathon. 

 From above her head she could hear the gaping students begin to mutter among themselves.

            “What the hell was that?—” 

“It’s her, remember?  That girl who has seizures…”

She blocked it out.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say around her throbbing tongue. She could feel blood dribbling down to coat her chin. 

            “Just…just lay down for a minute,” Mrs. Clarke urged, reaching up to run two trembling fingers through her short blond hair.  

She was crouched on the floor with her high heels digging like knives into the cheap carpet.  The tops of her pale knees stuck out from her slightly too short brown skirt.

Mrs. Clarke was one of those teachers who seemed too anxious to relate to a bunch of teenagers.  

Miriam had always thought that there was an air of regret about her.  As if she had never wanted to be a high school math teacher but a modeling career had fallen through, or something like that.