Making Waves
Awakening
Shilo woke bleary-eyed and stiff. Wondering where she was at first, then remembering the night before, she almost started crying again. No, she thought, no more tears. I can't live like this. Lifting her aching head, she surveyed her room and located the clock. It had been almost a full 24 hours since she had danced to Blind Mag's haunting voice.
"Get up, Shilo!" Her voice was hoarse and cracked. It shocked her as she realized that she hadn't actually spoken aloud since the OPERA. There hadn't seemed to be any point. Getting up awkwardly, stiff muscles refusing to follow her commands, she stumbled across the hall and into the bathroom to take care of her toilette.
She stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself for the first time in a week. Is that really me? Gaping at the image before her, she studied the gaunt, pale creature she was faced with. Her eyes, ringed with the sodden remnants of her disregarded makeup, were sunken, red-rimmed, and empty. Her cheeks were hollow, lips slack and chapped. And maybe this hadn't been a clean dress, after all… the lace at her sleeves was stained with dark smudges and brown ones that she only identified when she realized that she had never actually washed the blood off her skin. It must have re-wetted when she cried.
She looked up and was amazed to find that she had stubble forming on top of he head. Her hair was growing! Without the drugs to stop it, her body must be fixing itself. She ran her hand wonderingly over her scalp. She couldn't remember ever having had hair before. She wondered how fast it would grow.
Speaking of the drugs, she wondered when the last time she had taken her medications had been… maybe she should… but, no, she couldn't. But what if… No! Shilo wouldn't give in to the addiction her father had forced upon her!
Shilo looked up to find herself back in her room, standing in front of the medicine cabinet. With a cry of horror, she wrenched herself away from the hated thing and over to the window. Throwing the panes apart, she leaned over the wrougt iron railing and screamed her fury and frustration to the night.
" Couldn't have done better myself…" a weak, yet familiarly mocking voice drifted up from below.
Shilo looked down, startled, her chest heaving beneath layers of lace. Below her, leaning with deceptive grace against a lightpole, was the tall, fit form of the graverobber. Staring at him she remembered their first meeting, when he had almost gotten her arrested for graverobbing. He had seemed like such a lunatic then, screaming into the night much as she just had. Then their second encounter, when he had gotten her away from the Largos, showed her the underworld of Zydrate addiction, told her of Blind Mag's plight, and then escorted her home on the back of a garbage truck, bowing with a flourish as the vehicle bore him away. At that time he was a debonair man of the world. Her own personal knight-in-shining-armor.
Now, looking down at him, Shilo could see neither of these facets of his personality. She saw a tired man, a persevering cynic, using his crooked smile to cover his true self. He was also standing oddly, as if he was hurt… in fact, he was! As he shifted his weight, his trenchcoat came open and the wet sheen of blood decorated his side.
"What happened to you?" Shilo queried, leaning over the balcony railing. Then, changing her mind, she waved a hand to erase her former question. "Never mind. Can you make it to the tomb where we first met?" If he was in trouble, she had to help him if she could. After all, he had gotten her out of a scrape or two; she should return the favor.
Nodding, Graverobber pushed himself off the lightpole with some difficulty and began to limp his way around the house. Shilo raced down the stairs for the secret passage to her mother's tomb.
Sorry these chapters are so short... I kinda write as it comes to me. Some short, some long... whatever is needed. I would appreciate r/r as I am trying to improve my writing and maintain continuity. Thanks, KittysGotANewName
