Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I'm just doing something a little different with my story and her characters. NO copyright infringement intended. WARNING: CONTAINS DARK THEMES MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR ALL.
Hey kiddies, Happy Friday! Some of you are wondering when when when is the light at the end of the tunnel gonna make itself known. Well, just be patient for the next couple of days the light is in sight. Trust me. Thanks again for reading this weirdness and confusion as well as reviewing.
Sweetcheeks, I can never, ever thank you enough!
Sis, love ya!
Day 21
My eyes flutter open to scan my prison, and they immediately fall upon Kate's form in the corner.
"Kate," I call out.
Nothing.
"Kate," I say louder.
Still, nothing.
Gradually, I begin to crawl my way over to what seems like her lifeless body. My body protests with each movement.
I have to push past the pain. I don't matter right now. I need to get to Kate.
Kate needs to be okay; Kate needs to be alive. I don't think I will be able to continue to survive knowing she's dead.
The corner is littered with empty cups. Dozens of them. Where did she get them from? It had to be him. How long has he been giving them to her? How long has she been drinking them? I grab one of the empty cups, remnants of a "shake" lingers in the bottom. I raise the cup to my nose and inhale. I am immediately assaulted by the overwhelming stench, putrid and rancid. I throw it aside, trying to keep the need to vomit at bay. Then, like a tidal wave, the most terrifying thought crushes me—he's been poisoning her? I push the cups out of my way, desperate to get to Kate.
Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I approach her. Her legs are curled up against her chest, her arms tightly wrapped around them. Her hair covers her entire face. She looks thinner than I remember. This thought causes me to peer down at my own body. I don't recognize what my eyes are taking in. The body I see is frail, bloodied and broken. My skin is sallow, beyond its usual pale color. My hips are narrow, and I can see my bones protruding through my skin. If what he does to me on that metal table doesn't kill me, the deterioration of my body will.
I push aside such thoughts and return my attention to Kate, who still hasn't moved or answered me.
"Kate," I whishper as my hand reaches out to touch her back.
I feel her spinal column easily through her t-shirt. My hand shivers with the contact.
I close my eyes and focus on my hand, hoping to feel her breathing.
I wait.
I wait.
I focus harder.
I wait.
I wait.
My eyes close tighter.
I focus.
I feel.
I wait.
I feel something move.
My eyes flash open, and I notice the slight movement again.
She's breathing.
She's alive.
I crawl closer to her and, as gently as possible, turn her face to me.
The sight before me is startling.
Kate's lips are cracked open and dry blood stains her chin and neck. Her eyelids are practically translucent, but I become aware of movement behind them. She's sleeping. Her breathing is extremely shallow. There are deep, dark purple bruises under her eyes. If I didn't know any better, if I hadn't seen or felt her breath, I would think she was dead.
My mind is a whirlwind. I instinctively go into survival mode. I search my brain for any information I've retained while helping Edward study for his medical exams. I stretch my search deeper, digging into the recesses of my mind.
When I finally find the information I need, it's pointless. I can't get Kate to a doctor. I can't give Kate vitamins. I can't give Kate food. I can't give or get Kate anything she needs.
Panic starts to settle in, and I begin to crawl around the room in search of something, anything that might help, even though I know it's probably useless.
Empty paint can.
Old newspapers.
Discarded medical bio-hazard container-empty.
Dirt.
Cobwebs.
More empty paint cans.
Tarps.
And then . . . jackpot.
A half empty jug of water.
Giving me more trouble than usual, I pry the plastic lid off the container as quickly as I can.
With it finally open, I bring it to my nose.
I need to make sure this is water before I give it to her.
It smells like heaven.
Hesitantly, I bring the jug to my lips, the jagged ridge of it resting on my bottom lip.
Only a few sips.
Kate needs the rest.
The tepid water eases into my mouth, and involuntarily, I gasp. The liquid is my savior. The water is perfect. I let the life slide down my throat, feeling it make its way into my empty stomach.
My stomach protests its new contents, making me choke and heave and sputter.
I finally regain control of my body and take another small sip. It again slides down my throat, chilling me as it makes its way through my body.
Nothing.
I take another sip and another but stop before I take too much. Kate needs more than me. Kate needs me.
With the jug in hand, I make my way back over to Kate.
She hasn't moved, but I can see she is still breathing, shallow as it may be.
I set the jug down and very carefully pull Kate's limp body into my lap. I cradle her head in the crook of my elbow as if she were a newborn baby, giving her all the support she needs.
I reach for the jug and bring it to her lips.
"Kate, it's me, Bella. I found some water, good water. I'm going to give you some; you need to drink it."
I rest the rim of the jug against her bottom lip and slowly ease it up, allowing the contents to find their way to the opening. A small amount of water trickles out and slides down her lips and off her cheek.
As gently as possible, I nudge Kate, giving her a slight shake and another small stream of water against her lips. This time her lips part slightly and the water makes its way into her mouth.
Her body convulses, and she coughs as though she's coughing up her last breath. I hold Kate tightly against my body and wait for it all to subside. When it finally does, I pour another small amount of water into her mouth. Again, she shudders and shakes, wheezes, coughs and chokes. And again, I hold her.
I move to give her more, but her lips close and the water slides down her cheek and chin.
"Okay, Kate, we'll try some more later."
I put down the jug and wrap my arms gently around Kate's frail body.
Silent tears fall.
She has to be okay.
My fear for Kate, for myself, consumes me, and I can't fight against the darkness any longer. My last thought before succumbing to the dimness—I have to fight for Kate, for myself. We both need to survive this.
A/N: A little more hope, no? Let me know what you're thinking. I know it seems one step forward, two steps back at times, but I promise the light is coming into view, very very soon. See ya tomorrow!