My eyes wander across rows of towering skyscrapers until they spot something moving from behind one of the glass buildings.
I step closer trying to figure out what I’m looking at as I can’t shake the feeling that things feel out of place.
It’s a giant screen, but on the screen is a video of itself.
Seconds later, the voice of a goddess breaks the newly set stillness. I can’t help but smile. It’s her. She’s here.
I turn to her and our eyes connect. In them, I see my everything. . She’s radiant, all the stars in the universe fall dim to her light. No other beauty can possibly hope to compete.
“Kalli!” I gasp.
“Do I know you?” she asks as she steps closer to me mystified. The blank look on her face sends chills down my spine.
I don’t understand what’s happening.
With her brow raised in suspicion, she asks again, “Do I know you?”
“It’s me. Palin. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay now.”
She steps closer, and insistently asks again in the same monotone as before, “Do I know you?” Her face smiles but, it’s not her behind those cold crimson eyes.
No.. This isn’t right. This can’t be. That’s not my Kalli.
What’s happening?
“Do I know you?”
“Do I know you?”
She keeps repeating herself as she draws closer.
The lower half of me dissolves and I lose all control of my body. My hands try to push my ears in the most desperate attempt to block her echo, but they don’t move.
She’s inches from my face.
I slam my eyes shut as I scream.
“Stop! Make it stop!”
All is quiet for a few seconds.
I hesitate to open my eyes.
Awake.
Back in bed in the infirmary room. Jerking my neck erratically from left to right, then back left. No hint of her. She’s gone again. She was just a dream.
The distinct remnant of old smoke lingers in the air. A fresh blanket comfortably covers my lower half. The TV is off. All is quiet. Hope appears to have run away with my sanity.
My eyes start to water again, and I feel like I’m about to puke. I’m not sure if I’m still dreaming, or perhaps the dream was real this whole time. My memories lie to me. If this isn’t real, then I have nothing to worry about. It’s all in my head. One really bad dream. I’ll wake up and she’ll be lying beside me. I’ll kiss her on her forehead, and never let her go. This isn’t real! This isn’t happening to me. An idea collides with the front of my mind, as I urgently search for something to make this real, something to wake me up from this nightmare. I just need to know.
My runny eyes land on a small shard of glass wedged between the corner of the wall and the door where the Lethe eagle is perched. I jerk the IV out again and beg my legs to not fail me. They lock and weaken as I sluggishly stand. Stumbling a few steps towards the door I pick up the shard of glass. I haveto know if this is real.
The machine I was attached to beeps noisily, but its cry for attention goes ignored. Nervously, I hold out my shuddering arm palm up. This is what my life has come to. The edge of the glass presses against my clammy skin, my hands tremble. I want to cry, but my body won’t let me.
My flesh rips open. The glass slits into my arm, right under the name they gave me forever in ink. Bright red liquid flows from the line I draw. It drips down my arm, to my fingers, and splatters on the tile beneath me. The warmth stings. It burns. My veins empty into the floor, and I smile. It’s nice to feel something.
The glass rings out as it falls from my bloody hand, crashing on the floor at my feet. My back hits the wall, and I slide down into a small puddle of my own blood.
I feel it.
I feel everything.
Seeping through my gown, the blood spreads like wildfire stretching to my legs. My head becomes light. Specks of color hinder my eyes. This is real. I’m still alive. At least I know.
A knock at my door interrupts my moment of enlightenment. It flings open, and a woman’s scream clashes against my ears, Jacee’s scream. She rushes to me slamming the door behind her. “What have you done!?” she asks, making no attempt to mask the sincerity in her words. “You’re dead set on offing yourself, huh?” She grabs a towel, and shoves it into my arm, keeping pressure on it until it too runs red with blood.
“It’s not like that this time,” I mumble. “It’s.. just..” I pause mid-sentence realizing the alternative sounds equally as shitty.
It’s cold. The blood’s starting to thicken. It oozes from my hand and around the bottom seam of my gown like the mechanical grease I usually end up wearing home from the plant. My other arm fails me as I try to lift myself out of the puddle. She wraps around my neck, bracing me, just before I slip, and guides me to the bed. I regret realizing she’s the only person I’ve touched since Kalli. A sense of betrayal streams through me, but I let it slide under the circumstances.
I flop down on the bed and take my shift holding the red-stained rag. Some blood drips on the wrinkled sheets like paint stuck
in clouds of satin. She runs out to the hall wordless, only to frantically return moments later with more rags and a roll of tape. Her hands are swift and move diligently against my bloodstained skin.
“Ya know, I worked a little with her this cycle,” she says innocently peering into my eyes.
Why is she looking at me like that?
“I just wanted to say Kalli was a really nice person, and I’m sorry about what happened. If you want, I can try to find out more, see how far she made it before..”
“I’d like
