Markings Are Crap
I thought about Koda when I drove home, particularly the thoughts I knew I overheard, and I'd tried to piece them together. I was pretty sure that there was something about me looking like someone else, a store, and something like grandma or granny. But I always ended up kicking myself for thinking about him, feeling something kinda off about him, like why he was so warm, like Daren's opposite. I was on the homestretch of road that led to the house when I looked down at the speedometer and saw that I was (very unnaturally) going 80 something.
Slow down. Slow down, slow down, SLOW DOWN. I forced myself to ease away from the gas, annoyed with the slow crawl it reduced me to and sweating on my forehead with the control I had to use to make myself stay at the normal speed of thirty. I slowly rolled onto the driveway and got out of the car, stretching my stiff back and pulling my arms loose from the extra sweater I'd kept on because of the frigid airport AC. I grabbed my bag out of the car and slung it over my shoulder before locking it up and heading towards the French doors on the front porch.
I walked inside and tossed my bag to the side, where it leaned against a wall.
"Jason? I'm home!" I called out and clambered up the stairs, then walked down the hall, peeking in each of the rooms until I saw a leg hanging off the end of the couch in the loft. I walked in and slowly crept around the edge with the limp legs.
Jason was sprawled out on the couch, a little stream of spit coming out of his mouth as he took deep, sleepy breaths. I smiled, walked over to the bar, and grabbed a Pepsi out of the fridge, popping the top and taking a swig.
Ah, sweet carbonated sugar water. I went over and poked Jason in the stomach, watching as he shifted but didn't wake up.
"Heeeey Jason," I crooned in a low voice. "I'm hooome."
His eyes fluttered and before I knew it, I was swept from the ground as he moved in one fluid motion to his feet, grabbing me in a huge bear hug at the same time. I fought to balance the can of soda against the swirling motions.
"You're back, kiddo!" He said, and I choked out a feeble "Yup!" in spite of the crushing force of his hug.
I think my head started to loll off to the side or something, because Jason dropped me like a hot potato and just ruffled my hair.
"You didn't miss me, did you?" I asked and watched as he chuckled and said, "Of course I did!"
I smiled up at him and thought about how nice that sounded. I wondered what he did all this time, although he probably had friends; actually, I knew he did. He hung out with them every know and then, and I'd met one girl with long dark hair and big eyes that was a coworker from his job. But if you ask me, there was more going on. (hint-hint.)
"Anyways, I'm gonna go unpack." I said, and walked out of the room and up the stairs to the third floor. I slid into my room and plopped down on the bed, head in my hands.
Headache…bad headache. It kicked in so quickly, I was kind of nauseated from it. I laid down on the bed and curled up, my bag still sitting by my dresser, expecting me to go and unpack it like I'd said I would. But I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore it.
Within a couple of minutes, my head was pulsing and I moved quickly into the bathroom, found Tylenol in the medicine cabinet, and popped two into my mouth, chasing them down with a couple gulps of water. The buzzing and pain dulled and resigned, but it kinda still hurt when I craned my head to the left. In fact, it really hurt. It was like someone was sticking a needle in me right behind my ear. I slowly and carefully put away my clothes, mentally recording how much easier it got to set off the pain just by barely looking to the left.
Could it be from the accident in Colorado? I thought, and my mind was suddenly racing with all the horrible scenarios. What if Koda hadn't caught me and I'd fallen down and fractured my neck? Or if this was some sort of disease that effected my neck? I rubbed my hand across it, stumbling on something that felt kind of like brail. It was raised, and I might have thought that it was just a breakout, but it was really precise and it didn't feel oily. Not to mention the jabbing pain that happened when I touched it. I returned to the bathroom and since I couldn't really move my neck, I grabbed a mirror an tilted it just right like at the salon so I could see the back of my head and neck.
And there it was. The dots weren't all that was there, but also bluish black lines connected the dots, making this pattern that had lacy lines over crossing each other with feathery wings coming out from the tangle of elegance.
Oh my god… I didn't think much more before the marking pulsed and I hurt all over, sliding to the bathroom floor.
"Ah! Stop, please…" I whimpered, bowing my head and gripping the marking with both hands, although that just caused more pain. I slumped and I hoped that Jason didn't come in, since this definitely wasn't something for him to handle.
It has to be something with this vampire stuff! I winced and crumpled further to the ground as the pain rang more throughout my body. It was like a jackhammer was in my head and I'd just ran a marathon and then got beat up by pro wrestlers. I hauled myself over to the tub and leaned against it. Trying to concentrate on not screaming, on not passing out.
Passing out probably would have been better compared to the pain, but I really felt the need to stay conscious and to make it through this.
But someone…can someone please help… I heard rummaging on the other side of the bathroom door, and I actually tried to scramble to my feet, but there was no way in hell that I was moving that much. I could hear my heart speed up. What if it was Jason? It could only be Jason, duh. I held my breath as the door handle turned, the metal sliding against metal and scratching my nerves.
Its okay, Lovell. It's only me. I exhaled my entrapped breath as Daren walked in, a placid smile on his face and dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. I knew my hair was matted and that my forehead was glazed in sweat, but he still sat down next to my on the floor and pulled me close, gently handling my body so that the pain didn't spike again. He cradled my head close to his chest and draped his cold arm along the side of my body. I breathed deeper and tried to ignore the pain, blocking it out best I could but failing miserably.
You can sleep if you want to. He 'said,' his dark eyes soft and rich as he looked down at me with sincerity.
"That's okay." I said, voice raspy with pain. I closed my eyes, and, apparently, I'm a hypocrite.
I said I was a hypocrite since I fell asleep anyways as soon as I closed my eyes. Now, I was at the shrine place in my dream again, and this time, it was night and the moon in Vania's hands glowed like the crescent above. I was sitting with my legs sprawled out under me, and rows of people formed a human path in front of me, all of them standing with dark cloaks over their skin, the hoods casting shadows over their eyes.
Daren was next to me, kneeled down with his arm draped over my shoulders. He was staring straight ahead, no expression, but his eyes weren't rich and warm anymore; they were replaced by onyx hard, cold eyes.
And it still hurt so much. I gripped the spot again, which was on the slope of my shoulder and neck. It almost felt like it was burning, and I could feel that the bumps were going down. I tilted my head up and saw Vania with a long white robe that looked like layered gossamer with a white cotton hood thrown over her dark hair.
She walked towards me with her eyes shaded, too, the moonlight blocked by her cloak.
Damn it, what more can I go through? She jerked my chin up and her hand glided directly to the marking, sending jabbing pain through my body. I crumpled and fell, and I could feel Daren move beside me, his body briskly standing up.
"Don't, protector." Vania said, and Daren stepped back. I waited for him to say something but it occurred to me that Vania was a goddess, what could he really do?
But it hurt really bad, and I was close to crying. Vania's hand stayed on it, and it kept on becoming more painful. She looked somehow frustrated, and the more her face got like that, the more the mark stung and ached and burned and throbbed. The second I realized she was making it worse, tore her hand away from me and shrieked "Stop!"
I arched my head and my hair fell like a curtain around my face. Sweat and tears dripped off my nose and chin as several hands slammed me back onto the ground, like I'd just assaulted the President. I tried to fight back, but the pain and the tears blurring my vision made it impossible, and I'd figured out quickly that the hooded figures were Vampires, not just people. I screamed out, my mark brushing and banging against the ground as they tethered me to the ground with their hands and arms.
"Shhh." Vania tried to soothe, but I never stopped screaming as she rested her hand on the stupid, cursed, stupid mark. I repeatedly tried to thrash and punch my way out, but these Vamps were stronger then body builders, and they had every strong point of my body hooked to the ground, and I felt like I was choking on other people's breath.
The pain reached its peek and I screamed, hurting my own ears and spitting out the last of my vocal energy into that sound breaking cry. Another cool hand rested on mine and I knew instinctively that it was Daren. But I also knew he couldn't do anything. He had to obey, had to listen to what a goddess said.
So I kept on thrashing with my own strength, never running out of energy, not growing tired. I could actually feel the hands restraining me moving millimeters back and forth as I attacked them again and again. But it didn't make a difference; they were far, far stronger then me.
"Please stop, Lovell." Vania said, but I refused I kept throwing my arms and twisting my torso, unwilling to give in. "Listen to me. Just look at the moon and calm yourself."
I kept on fighting even after glimpsing at the moon, but I was kind of losing my will to resist, because for all I could tell the pain wasn't getting better or worse. But something still nagged me to stop them. There was nothing right about this, not the dark cloaked people, not Vania, and not what they were doing.
And if I thought the pain was bad at that moment, the next moment I would've passed out, if I hadn't already been asleep. I could feel the burning pain in the one place suddenly spiral out of control, and the burning lines seared across my body, leaving the lacy patterns across my skin.
Vania's eyes narrowed and she pulled back her hand and it looked as though she was going to draw it across my face. I cringed and just barely caught the glimpse of something white and feathery before I slammed into reality like a train running over my body.
I slammed up right in bed, white sheets fluffing into the air around me, but I immediately stumbled out of bed and tried to move towards the bathroom, but the sheets wrapped around my ankles and I fell to the ground, tears already slipping down my cheeks. I felt sore, all over, but mildly compared to that reality-dream-epiphany-blackout-thing. That was over, right? But it had to have been something significant – no matter what the dream was, I never felt pain like that. After all, I knew for a fact that I had seen the mark before I fell asleep, and I also knew that Daren had been sitting with me on the bathroom floor.
But, despite what I know happened and I saw, my room was dark, I was in my pajamas, and my world was spinning. I staggered to my feet and lurched towards the bathroom, dragging the sheet with me, using it to swipe away tears from my face. I nudged the door open and stood in front of the mirror, afraid to lift the smaller mirror and see if the mark was there.
I kept on warring with both sides of my head, the look and see! side progressively reasoning that if it was there, it confirmed everything that I thought I experienced and proved to myself that I wasn't insane or delusional or whatever.
Just look!
If I look, I could breakdown!
Like you're not broken already!
At least I'm trying to be reasonable and logical!
Are you kidding? You're insane!
Take it back!
No!
"Just shut up!" I screamed, lifting the mirror and spotting it instantly, the dark marking with the overlapping lines and wings bursting from the rambles of lines. I wanted to slap myself, then go back to bed. But I couldn't just go back to sleep, not with the hysteria I was experiencing and not with that last 'dream' still fresh in my mind.
I went and sat down on the balcony, the dim lit land so much more serene than my twisting stomach. I rubbed my nose with the sleeve of my shirt and then laid on my side, right there on the freezing metal balcony.
At seven thirty in the morning, I got out of my room and edged down the stairs. In the kitchen, there was a post it on the microwave door that was from Jason.
Morning, sleepyhead.. I left early this morning because something came up at work. See ya later.
I put the note in the trash and rummaged in the fridge for something to eat, since I knew I would feel hungry if I wasn't engrossed in my problems. I squished peanut butter and jam between bread and poured some milk, then went out the back door to the small courtyard that had a couple wild flowers growing behind foot high brick walls. I sat down on the brick wall and stretched my legs out across the walkway.
I looked down at the sloppy sandwich and was transported back to the first time I met Matty at lunch. She'd agreed with me that PB&Js were an ingenious invention. Now she'd become the only person that knew anything. Anything of significance, at least.
I ate the sandwich and swished the milk around in my mouth before swallowing.
I had to get out of the house today. I was gonna get my ass outta here, away from my bedroom, and do something else besides wonder.