The voices, all five of them, run, slithering in fear. “Yes, yes you are our master.”
Reality gets sucked back into view, and I’m standing there, clutching my phone while the paramedics are working on Madison. Everything goes in slow motion, and I drop my phone, falling to my knees and clutching my head. What happened?
What happened?
Why do I feel like this is my fault?
Stretching my arms wide, an earth-shattering scream erupts out of me as tears pour out of my eyes. I’ve never lost control. Never. I’m always in control. Nothing touches me. I don’t feel. I don’t feel anything. But seeing Madison motionless on the ground, it’s like I suddenly feel everything.
“Sir!” A paramedic comes rushing over, blood on his hands. “What happened?”
My chest heaves as I take in deep breaths, my head hanging between my shoulders in defeat. I slowly look up at him and snarl, “She shot in the head.”
BEEP.
Beep.
Beep.
Pain.
Beep.
Feels like a thousand bricks are weighing down on my head.
Beep.
I try to wiggle my toes, only they don’t move. I don’t think they move. Where am I?
Beep.
I strain to open my eyes, but not sure whether they’re opening.
“No.”
A voice! Whose voice is that?
Beep.
I’m so tired. Like sinking sand, I feel my consciousness slowly detach itself from wherever I am. The beeping sounds distant now.
Beep.
“Did you try to kill her?” is the last distant thing I hear before the depths of nothingness envelop me completely.
My throat throbs, like I’ve swallowed gallons of sand. Moving my head slightly, I groan. My head pounds like a bass line is vibrating directly through my brainwaves. It’s almost too painful to bear. Wiggling my fingers, this time I feel them respond and someone grabs my hand beside me.
“Madison?”
Who is that? Slowly, I open my eyes. Heavy and tired, like glue has set on my eyelashes, but I stubbornly fight it.
“Water,” I urge, still not knowing who that is. There’s a straw pressing against my lips, hitting the cracks. I open my mouth a little, enough to fit the tiny straw in and suck. The water is warm, but it slides down my parched throat perfectly. Moving my head back after drinking all of it, I wince.
“Hurts.”
“I know, babe.”
“Who is this? I can’t see.”
“Open your eyes, babe.”
I fight for it, God knows I do, and when my eyes finally open, my eyebrows pull in. “Tillie?” She looks the same from what I remember, only I’m seeing three of her, and her voice is echoing in and out.
“It’s me, but I can’t stay long.” Her words reverberate, and I can slowly feel the familiar sinking sand slide out from under me.
No!
“Tillie….” I want it to come out excitedly, happy that she’s here, but it comes out more like pain.
“I’m sorry, Madison.” She kisses me somewhere on my head. “I had to make sure you were okay, but I have to go now.”
“Go?” I mutter. “No! You just got here.” I peel my eyes open a little wider, but she’s still blurry. “Please don’t leave.”
“I have to. It’s not safe for me here.”
“Tell me, Tillie,” I croak out. “I can keep secrets. Please.”
“I know you can, Mads. But I can’t. I just can’t. I have to go. I love you.”
“Tillie!” I groan, and as she snatches up her hoodie and heads to the door, she turns over her shoulder to face me. “I’m sorry.” Then she leaves. I rest my head back, ignoring the excruciating pain.
“Madison?” Bishop murmurs, but I can’t see him.
“Bishop?” I gasp, looking around the room for him. I look to the corner and see the outline of his body, the tip of his white sneakers glowing from the moonlight peering in. He’s leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Did you see that?”
He chuckles. “It’s amusing you think I’d let any motherfucker near you. Of course I saw that. I allowed it.”
“Oh,” I murmur, wincing at the pain. I want to ask why he allowed Tillie in, but I sense he won’t tell me anything right now.
“You okay?” He gets up from his chair and walks toward me. He’s in his usual clothes, looking like he always does—perfect. But when he leans down and places a kiss on my head, I see him closer. He has bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days.
“What happened?” I whisper, confused by my choppy memories. “All I remember is… pain.”
I wince again, and he pushes the button on the side of my bed. “Stupid fucking Daemon called the paramedics,” he mutters, almost to himself.
“Daemon?” I go to sit up, but it feels as though someone just launched a knife through my head. “Ahh.” I reach up to rub it, and Bishop shoots toward me.
“Lie down. Don’t try to act like a warrior. We all know you’re tough; now just lie down.”
The nurse walks in, putting her hands into her front pockets. “Hi, Madison, you’re awake.” She pulls out a little flashlight, hooking a stethoscope around her neck. Leaning forward, she smiles at both Bishop and me. “I’m just going to run a quick check before I give you more pain meds.”
“No,” Bishop interrupts. “Give her the meds now. The general practice bullshit you usually do will not fly in this room.”
She goes to argue with Bishop, but then runs her eyes up and down his body, squaring her shoulders. “Very well.”
She moves one of the drips around and turns the nozzle. “This is morphine. You will feel better soon. Can you tell me any other pain you are feeling aside from your head?”
“No,” I murmur. “Just my head. It hurts really bad, almost unbearable, and I like to think I have a high pain threshold.”
She smiles sweetly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Understandable. Your injury is severe.”
“What is it, by the way?”
She looks to Bishop before looking back to me. “You were shot. Please, try to get some rest.”
I was shot? Holy shit! How ironic is it that the one thing
