Fae
I was growing intensely sicker by the day, I could feel myself caving into death even before it threatened to engulf me. I knew that deaths viscous tendrils were out to get me and I wasn't particularly scared of it although I hoped for more time. I had survived the week Arthur had supposed my death would be in. I was alive and for some strange reason, I felt relieved.
Death has always been a foregoing thing for me. I knew I was going to die young but for some reason as my time is nearing, I'm beginning to dread death.
It's funny how emotions flood you when you're just about to escape, isn't it? Dread- it's one of the most painful things for when you dread something there is no chance of a mist of hope released from Pandora's Box.
And without hope, we have no reason to live.
I have no hope, but I also dread my death.
I told you emotions are hilarious.
Alia
"Ms. Earl?" The petite female nurse called out to me, instructing me to enter the room.
The clinic huffed with energy and a sense of birth and as I walked in to see the new doctor, I was happy that I had decided against a hospital.
"Ms. Earl, is that correct?" The doctor lowered her head, her spectacles sliding down her nose. Her purple hair was tied into a fountain ponytail and bounced on top of her head. Tattoos rushed down her arms, curling around her fingertips and finally ending onto the back of her palm.
"Y-yes, that's me," I stuttered, taken aback at the sight of her. I eyes her cautiously, deciding whether or not to trust her with my two month old fetus.
She cackled at my wary expression. "Doll, I know I look like a gangster, but trust me, that is so not my scene. I just like breaking stereotypes, that's all. Now jump onto the bed and lay on your back so we can get this road on the show," she showed off her pearly whites. I did as I was told, deciding to trust her. It's not like I had a choice anyway. I wouldn't, couldn't, go back to Arthur.
It had been a week since I had seem Fae. I had decided to reside in the hotel room Mia had booked with what little sources Mia had brought from the apartment. It was the end of the month and I couldn't continue scavenging with resources (especially with a living thing inside of me) when I had an apartment full of stuff to satisfy me. This past week I had been to afraid to see Fae. I wasn't necessarily terrified of seeing her, I was more terrified of seeing her happy with Arthur and then returning back to an empty room.
That's why I decided I would retrieve the stuff I needed today. Since it was Friday, I could get my stuff and then go pick Mia up from the institute.
I have been longing to see her since I dropped her off last Sunday. Somehow, her presence just made me feel more alive. Not simply living, but alive. The electricity that charged between us made me feel excited and tired at the same time that I couldn't control the lust that I felt for her.
"There's your baby," the doctor whispered. I looked at the ultra sound, ignoring the coolness on my belly button. Amongst the blue and whiteness I could see a little figure about as big as the distance between my thumb and little finger. I gasped at the sight of my little baby and a giggle of pure joy slipped between my lips.
"My babies beautiful," I breathed.
"As beautiful as its mother," the doctor winked at me. I chuckled inwardly at her flirting. So I still had it, even after I begun showing a little.
***
The front door to the apartment was left slightly ajar and I slipped into it noiselessly. Padding up to the carpet to wipe my feet before entering, I scourged the place for a hint of Fae. Her car was in the lot, meaning she was home but hopefully she wouldn't be in our room.
I trotted into the house, past the couch and kitchen with no sight of her. The door to the room was shut and I debated knocking on it. I rapped against the door three times before I heard a soft groan and a weak voice calling out for me to come in.
Woo hoo, yippidie doo, this couldn't get any worse, I moaned with frustration.
Fae sat on the bed, blankets wrapped around her like a cocoon. Her electric blue eyes reflected the Four Faced Liar playing on her Mac. When I first saw her, I thought I met a ghost.
Her skin was flaky, with no color. Her cheeks sank into her mouth, making the sickly lines of her cheekbones visible. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her lips were parched and cracked.
"F-Fae?" I asked, "What's wrong?" She snapped her head up and I instantaneously regretted talking to her.
Although she looked grossly sick, her beauty was undeterred.
"I'm watching a movie. There's nothing wrong, " she stated.
"Uhm," I ran my fingers through my hair, "you look under the weather."
"Oh no, I'm fine," she chocked.
"When was the last time you've eaten?" I asked her sharply.
"I don't know. Why do you care?"
"Have you been bing watching our movies?" I raised an eyebrow.
"What's wrong with it? Memories are the only thing I have of you," she sighed, "do you remember when we watched this one? " she pointed at the screen, "you were shattered because of that girl, Oliva, right? And so I took you home from that bar and you told me to stay over. We ate chocolate popcorn that day," she said drowsily, as if drugged.
My eye caught the packet of pills that resided on the bed side table.
"It's pain meds," she said, following my gaze.
"What hurts?" My voice softened. I knew it was stupid but I couldn't deny the fact that I still cared for her.
"My brain," she mumbled, pulling a pillow toward her.
"You don't take pain meds for that!" I exasperated. She shrugged, burying her head into the pillow. Her shoulders shook as I heard a loud sob escape her.
I went up to the bed and perched at the edge of it.
"Hey," I whispered to her, "it's going to get better okay? I'm going to get you a hot towel for that brain of yours and maybe some soup?" She nodded slightly, "I'll be right back."
I left the room and jogged all the way to the kitchen. I set the water to boil and sprinted to the bathroom to grab a towel. Taking it back to the kitchen, I inserted it into the microwave. As I waited, I poured the boiled water into the cup-a-soup. The soup and towel were ready at the same time. I carried them up carefully to the room.
"Here you go," I said, sitting on the bed. She took the soup from me with shaking hands. Squeezing the mildew from the towel into a bowl, I reached out and cautiously placed it on her forehead. She sighed, whispering a thank you as my fingers massaged the towel.
In he just of my massage, she reached up, her soupy breath on my nose. She planted a small kiss on my lips, "I'm so sorry," she whispered, bringing her lips back up to mine.
For a second I knew not what to do, but as soon as she tried to deepen the kiss, I pushed her off.
"Well, you know what Fae? I don't forgive you. Not this time," I scowled, leaping off the bed.
"Can I at least explain?" Her voice lifted with hope.
"Okay. Go ahead."
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again.
"I'm waiting," I crossed my arms.
Again she did the same thing twice.
Shaking my head, I said, "That's what I thought."
She buried her face in her hands.
"Arthur should be here to care for you. Since you're in such a dire state, I'll text him for you." I grabbed her phone from near her pills, typed in her password, and quickly texted Arthur.
Your girl is sick. Be here to care for her.
- Kisses, A.
I tornadoed around the room, collecting my things and stuffing them into the suitcase I had brought.
When I was done, I left. Not saying a word to Fae in fear of crying.
***
The drive to the institute was one of the most emotionally painful drives I have had to endure. The tears refused to stop rushing down my face and they didn't help the rain I was driving through.
I took a minute in the parking lot to wipe my tears before advancing into the institute.
"Mia Tres," I told the attendant. As always, she leaned all the way foreword, showing off her cleavage as she swung the visitors pass around my neck.
Mia sat on her bed with her back to me when I arrived. Her face was buried adorably into a soft toy and her eyes were based with the day dream she was having. A painting was propped up against the corner of the room. She had repainted the baby.
"Can I ask you a riddle?" I smirked as she turned around. "Punch me and kiss me went to the garden, punch me died, who was left?"
She chuckled at my riddle, "that's not right," she laughed.
"You didn't answer," I smirked at her some more.
"Kiss me," she said.
And I did.