How Slow Time Heals

Prologue

Are you okay? I look at my phone, then across the room at Analyse. I squirm in my seat and feel my hands sweating.

You can tell? My hands turn red and shake. A ping emerges from my phone. I think it's happening again.

Do you need me to cover for you? The large group of people gets louder and louder and the room is spinning.

I need you to help me out of here.

Okay Okay I'm coming just hang in there. I see Analyse speed walking and pushing past people in the dark room. She grabs me by the elbow and rushes me out of the building. It's darker outside than it is inside. But my hands are glowing red.

"Summer, you okay? You look awful." I feel myself falling back and Analyse catches me in her arms. "Hey do we need to go to the hospital?"

"N-no I'm fine I just need to sit down." I sit on the rough pavement and hold my head in my hands. I can't tell if it's my hands or forehead, but something is burning up. So much that it hurts to do it.

"Summer, we need to take you home, now." Her voice was urgent but the world felt like it was spinning.

"Analyse I'm fine!" After I said that, she jumped off of me, holding her arms where I was touching her. "Hey wait what's wrong?" Tears are in her eyes and she looks like she's in pain. She reveals her arms, with two clear burn marks on her skin. "Oh my God was that me? I'm so sorry!" I try to get close to her but she backs away. She looked legitimately scared of me.

"Don't touch me." Her voice is trembling and her arms are shaking. The burns were deep and you could see some crimson blood peeking through the less burnt bits. At the tip of the wound, probably where my fingers were, her skin was practically charred. It was the worst burn I had ever seen in my life. Her arms were very skinny so my hand could almost wrap around it all the way. It looked terrible.

"Analyse I'm so sorry I don't know what came over me." I look at my hands. The tips of them were a dark purple color, and the rest of my hand was glowing. As I tried to calm down though, the light got dimmer, and my skin returned to it's light milk chocolate color. Analyse wouldn't look into my eyes.

"I.. it's fine. You didn't mean it." She says quietly. It looked like it hurt really bad.

"We should get you to a hospital. Your arms look terrible." She looks down at the grass when I say that. Her white converse digging into the grass shyly. I try to help her into my car, but she still won't let me touch her. What do I expect? I did burn her. She insisted on driving, even though I told her my hands were back to normal. Once we got in the room, the silence was deafening. I sat in an uncomfortable pale green chair with darker green and blue shapes on it. I guess she's in shock because she fell asleep in the hospital bed immediately. You know when someone in the hospital bed falls asleep that they're exhausted, because those things are so uncomfortable.

"I'm so sorry Analyse.." I don't think I've said anything else since we've gotten to the hospital. I'm afraid to hold her hand. Afraid I'll have another outburst. Her blonde eyelashes invisible unless you get close, are fluttering. She looked troubled. her arms are covered in creme colored bandages. Otherwise, her skin is unblemished and pale. She looks even paler than normal. I'm not sure if it's because of the lights or her burns though. I'd like to assume that it's the lights. Her mom came in earlier today. All the way from Kansas City. She's sweet to everyone else, but it's clear she doesn't like me.

"Summer.. you're still here." Analyse says shocked, but happy, her blue eyes fluttering open.

"Of coarse I am." I laugh. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, when my mom was here I didn't see you." Analyse says confused.

"Yeah I left. I figured you two needed to be alone." I explain.

"I didn't tell her it was you."

"You didn't?" I couldn't believe it. "Why not?"

"Mom already hates you. She doesn't need to know everything that's going on with me." We both laugh. Her mom was so pushy.

"I guess."

"What's wrong?" She always knows when I feel bad. Can't get anything past her.

"I'm a hazard to you.." I say quietly.

"Summer.. No. You didn't mean it." She grabs my hands softly. I start to cry.

"That's the whole problem. I can't control it. I'm just gonna hurt you more." I can't stand to look in her eyes, but she's upset. I can tell.

"We can work it out. We can find a way for you to control it." She says, panicking.

"We can't!" I grip her hands tighter. "I can't touch anyone anymore! I'll just hurt you and I don't want to. I can't do that anymore!" Analyse screams in pain.

"Let go! Let go! You're burning my hands! Stop!" She screams. I let go slowly to reveal her blistered, charred and throbbing hands. It was even worse than the last one, big yellow blisters covering all the area on her hands that aren't maroon scabs.

"I-I... Need to go." Then, I run. Run out of the hospital, out the door into the cold air. Though it was cold and not humid at all, I cannot breathe. I run as far as I can, reaching my car, and sob uncontrollably. How could I do this to her? I could've killed her. I've gotta leave. Go somewhere far away. Somewhere where I can't hurt anyone.

So that's what I'll do. I drive home and start packing up. I'm not taking what can't fit in my car. I don't have much anyway, so I brought the most important stuff. My purse, wallet, a cooler full of food, a small picture of me and Analyse, back when we first met. She is so beautiful. I'm not. I have black hair that I keep tight up in a ponytail. I never wear makeup, except for mascara, which is now running down my cheeks. She is always dressed in a cute dress or outfit. I don't. Most of my clothes are old and tattered, left from my senior year of high school, the last time I've ever talked to my parents. After I came out to them, They kicked me out. Then I found Analyse. She's gotten me through everything. What am I supposed to do without her? She's my center, the only steady thing I have. I can't hurt her though. I have to do this. For her. Plus, we can always text. But there's no way I can stay here. I'm independent. I can do this.