Okay, so this
chapter is more serious. It's more of a filler.
Not that that means the next one won't be funny….
The Calling
Chapter 12: Tylenol
Luckily for me, it seemed Anthony shared my liking of silence in the car, and my liking in music. The song that was playing was good, I'd never heard, but I liked it anyway. One line was rather significant to me: "Don't look to your friends their memories are pretend." Sang the slightly British voice. I had a sudden surge of flashbacks.
My memory was a blank abyss.
I was suddenly existent, and that was that.
A woman, huddled in the corner, shaking.
There was blood on the floor.
There was a window
Broken
Pieces flashing dully in the flickering light.
The glass remaining made a strange shape.
Like a cat, but smaller
A kitten
The glass on the floor was different
The window, was not
It was a one-way mirror
I looked down at myself
I had hands, numb and unnatural
Scars, around my wrist
Long, pointed nails
The very tips
Red
The wall was
Torn
A wide hole
Through the middle
Panting
Above me
A boy
Silver-haired
He was trying to save me
He pressed his hands to my chest
His mouth formed words
Words that I
Could not hear
Light
Blue light
Flowing through
My veins
I was burning. I was pressed flat against something soft. There was a slight breeze against my ear, and ice, moving up and down my spine. "Nicole? Nikki, can you hear me?"
"Yes," I whispered. Someone sighed in relief and I opened my eyes. The light pierced my vision, and I had a terrible headache. A hand covered my eyes.
"Sorry, sweetheart, but I think that's a bad idea." He's right; it's only making my headache worse. I grasped around, and soon found what I was looking for. I hugged Anthony closer to me, and buried my head in his chest.
"It's okay. It's fine. Don't worry," He told me. I realized I was shaking, violently.
"Where are we?" I asked him.
"We're still in the Lamborghini, I'm going to push the seat back so you can lay down while I drive home."
"No, it's okay, I just need some Tylenol and I'll be fine."
He didn't say anything, and he smelled strongly of frustration and, strangely, sadness. Why would he be sad? He was fine a minute ago.
"Open your mouth," I obeyed and two chalky pills were shoved down my throat. I was pushed into a sitting position and a stream of freezing cold water followed the pills down. I opened to see to bright topaz eyes staring back at me. "I thought I told you to keep your eyes shut. Be a good girl and go to sleep." It was weird, the sound of his voice, mixed with the intensity of his eyes made me want to go to sleep. I would do anything; he just had to say it. I closed my eyes and drifted off.
AN: So, I think Anthony's gift is rather obvious, and if it's not, it's okay, we still love you.