Part 3/11: heal me (Maria)

"Michael, I'd really like to go home," I whispered, silently begging him to let go of my arm. Iwon'tcry Iwon'tcry Iwon'tcry. Why was he doing this? Couldn't he tell I was dying inside?

Michael looked at me blankly. He slowly released his death grip on my arm. "Okay."

Okay? Did he really say that? I stood there for a couple more seconds, staring at the pink mark on my arm that was slowly disappearing. Then I looked at him one last time, turned around, and left.

What was I thinking?, I thought all the way home. I'd said 'no' when I meant 'yes', I'd said I wanted to go home when I really didn't... When could I stop lying to him?

I knew the answer. I had known it all along.

Never.

The word stung. But I knew it was true. As long as I was anywhere near Michael, anything I wanted to say came out just the opposite.

What's wrong with me?

As soon as I opened the front door I knew something was wrong. The lights dimmed. I heard footsteps. Someone had broken in! I looked frantically around the house.

"Maria." A voice behind me. A voice I could not recognize. Even so, it was familiar. Turn around, don't turn around, turn around, don't turn around. I slowly turned around, afraid of who I would see.

Topolsky? "You're dead!" I blurted out, not thinking.

"Shh! Maria, listen to me very carefully," Topolsky said quietly. "You need to get out of this house right now! You're in great danger. Michael's in great danger."

For whatever reason, I believed her. "Where can I go?"

"Anywhere. It doesn't matter. Just go!" She gave me a push and I was out of the house, stumbling blindly into the night. I ran crazily down the streets, not able to think. Did I know where I was going? No. I ran and ran. "You're in great danger. Michael's in great danger." The words echoed inside my mind. It's my fault, I thought. I hurt him.

Never.

I couldn't get the word out of my head.

I started running in the direction of his apartment. The last thing I can remember is something or someone hitting me in the back. Then I blacked out.

I woke up with Michael staring down at me. I was dizzy.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"I don't know," Michael admitted. "I found you lying on the street. You were bleeding everywhere, Maria."

I didn't know what to say.

"Who did this to you?"

I twisted my neck around so I could see my back. There was a silver handprint where I'd been hit. I ran my finger over the palm of the handprint. It was the strangest feeling.

I started to smile. "You healed me?" I asked him. If he healed me, then he saw me.

He knows I lied.

Michael looked horrified. "What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to leave you there to die a bloody death? Because if I was-"

"No, it's really okay," I assured him.

He relaxed. "Do you feel...okay?"

I nodded. "Can...Can you walk me home?" I looked at him; my eyes daring him to say no. To back away once again.

Michael helped me to my feet, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yes."

We walked to my house in silence. Side by side.

Michael stopped at my front door, looking lost. "Stay safe," he said finally, and started heading back to his apartment.

"Wait!" I cried out. I was not going to lose him again. Not going to lie to him. "It's not safe out there!"

He turned around and looked at me.

"Stay. Stay here. I owe it to you for kicking you out earlier."

Michael hesitated for a minute. Then he shrugged and walked back to me. "If you really want me to," he whispered in my ear. And we both walked in.