Supernatural Boarding School #3 - A Brush of Death ✅

Chapter 29 - Demona

Demona's point of view

It was like losing an old friend and coming home at the same time. The pain gave my body a long last hug goodbye, making me wish I could scream. Then, slowly, it started to make its way down. First, my head stopped hurting. Then, my arms got a tingling feeling, like I'd fallen asleep on them and I was experiencing the familiar pins and needles. Before I could get used to being able to move my fingers, even if it was just a fraction of an inch, my chest and legs stopped burning. Finally, the pain was only present in my feet, mostly around my ankles.

Oh boy, I was ready for the pain to stop. So, so ready. Instead of patiently waiting for the last of it to leave, I started mentally pushing it out. Every last bit of it had to go, as fast as possible.

And finally, it did.

Instead of bringing the long anticipated relief, an empty feeling settled in my stomach, like I had pushed out more than just the pain. Unsure what to make of that, I just focused on trying to move, to open my eyes, to say something. Of course, that proved to be impossible. Part of me felt like I was moving, like I was opening my eyes, but I couldn't actually see or feel anything, so that must just be my imagination.

After a while – it was impossible to tell time without opening my eyes – at least my ears started to work again. The first sound I heard was beeping. Soft, but annoying all the same. The soft gentle beep I recognized from watching hospital shows like Grey's Anatomy. That probably meant I was in a hospital. The only question was... why?

It took another unidentifiable amount of time for everything to come back to me. My memory had probably suffered from being out for... How long had I been out? That was an excellent question and also an impossible one to answer.

After I'd gotten used to the beeping, voices started to wash over me. Familiar ones. The meaning of the words eluded me and that was fine. Just the soft timbre of their voices felt like a warm blanket wrapped around me. Two were deep – probably male – and one undeniably female.

"Yeah," I heard the female say. It was the first word I could understand. Not a particularly interesting one, but a word, nonetheless.

"She is going to kill me," a man said, his voice deep and sad. His voice sent shiveres up and down my spine. It was the sound of coming home.

"Her mouth just twitched!" another man shouted, sounded excited.

"I guess that means she is already getting ready to yell at me."

Eros. The name came to me in a flash, along with a face and so many feelings that I felt winded. It was Eros who was talking about getting yelled at, getting killed. By... me? Why would I ever want to do that?

"You should be happy," the female said. Anne – her name emerged in my mind as well. "She's obviously starting to come to. It might take some time, days or weeks even, but she's moving, she's sort of responding. She'll definitely wake up."

"I hope so," Eros sighed. "That doesn't change the fact that I didn't completely abstain from drinking like I promised, that I cheated on her and on top of all that, I stole her powers."

Cheated. That one word echoed so loudly that it was impossible to pay attention to what else Anne and Eros were saying. I was out for... well, a while... and he cheated on me? He slept with someone else, after everything I had done for him? After laying down my life just so he could have a better relationship with his mother?

You were prepared to forgive him, I told myself sternly. You wrote it down on a piece of paper and told Dylan that he could let Eros know that whatever Eros would do, you would always forgive him. Writing those letters had been emotional and yet somehow, it hadn't been real. It was easy to make a rational decision about how you would feel and act when someone would hypothetically cheat. That didn't mean that I could control how I felt right now, though. I loved and hated him at the same time. It was exhausting. Even more exhausting than the pain I'd had to endure for what felt like three lifetimes. Maybe even four.

"She'll wake up," Dylan's voice sounded on my right. "She'll wake up, yell at all of us and we will love every single second of it."

For their sakes, I hoped they would. When I woke up, there would be so much yelling they might end up wishing I'd fall back into my coma.