Envious (41 page)

I was pulled from my thoughts by a sudden, screaming headache. I winced, holding my pounding head in my hands. I forced my eyes open. My vision had blurred significantly. I tried to reach for my bag. There was a bottle of Advil inside, and I needed it desperately. Pain like a knife sliced through my skull, making me double over in anguish. A squall so terrifyingly dangerous raged in my head. I tightened my grip on my head, feeling at risk of my head falling apart. I needed to hold it together, keep the pressure down so it wouldn’t explode.
Just hold it together!

Tears came to my dry eyes and spilled onto my shirt. Blackness overcame me. I couldn’t see a thing, just bursts of purple and green dancing over darkness. Nothing was visible. I begged for help, unsure if words even left my lips. I heard nothing but the sharp ring of pain. I continued begging to everyone I could think of. Mom. Dad. Todd. Tony. Eric. Bailey. God. I pleaded for him to make the pain stop. I begged for my life. I felt like death was approaching me. I could feel its shadow looming over my pathetic pain-consumed, tear-drenched body. I cried, curled up in a tiny ball, hoping the pain would end, prayerful that the light would return.

Then it stopped almost as quickly as it had come. I watched as my vision parted the shadows to reveal my surrounding room. My head was not completely free from its torture. Pain still sliced through it, but less severely. What remained was like the last remnants of a storm, lightning cracking on the horizon as stray drops fell from the sky. I rushed for my bag and swallowed five Advil at once. I hoped that they would work to hold off any future migraines. I looked to the clock. What had seemed like hours of torture…
had
been hours of torture, or at least one hour and thirty minutes.

The gallery opening had begun twenty minutes ago. I was certain Eric would be there. He worked in the college’s art gallery and would have had to set up for the speeches and refreshments. He had begun to tell me something about it. I needed to go. If he had talked to Aurora, I didn’t want to give him any reason to fall back to her. I needed to see Eric. I had to see if a future was possible for us.

I stood unsteadily on my feet. A nasty wave of nausea swept over me. I begged God to let it pass. I needed to go. I needed to change clothes and go.

After dressing in my sleek black skirt and a sweater, I made my way through the campus. It was dark. There was no moon in the cloud-covered sky, and I cast no shadow. I stepped quietly through the familiar pathways, listening intently for any strange noises. All I could hear through the remnants of my headache was the soft tap of my shoes on the sidewalk.
Tap, tap, tap.
The campus scared me at night. It was so dark and cold. The buildings seemed much more spread out at night than during the daylight hours. Anyone could be hiding anywhere, and no one would notice if I disappeared.

My head and body still ached unbelievably. I felt out of balance and like I was floating above a thundercloud. I feared another shocking pain, feared with my whole being. The Advil wasn’t working the way I had hoped it would.

I saw someone disappear behind a tall building to my right, but I was almost at the gallery. I watched the brick building suspiciously as I walked past it.
Tap, tap, tap.
My hands were frozen, even through my gloves. I wrapped my arms around my waist, hugging my coat tighter to me. I tried not to think about how icy cold my feet and legs felt.

Another wave of nausea threatened me, but I stepped into the gallery building just the same. I forced down the urge to vomit. I could not do that here, not with all the high society people viewing artwork and talking intellectually. I needed to find Eric. After that I could find a bathroom if I still needed it. After.

I slid my coat from my shoulders and held it folded tightly in my arms. I looked urgently through the cramped area, searching for Eric. I wove through the tight crowds, searching every face. Nausea came over me again. An intoxicating heat spread throughout my body, burning over every inch, even down through the tips of my fingers. My back suddenly ached and my mouth felt so very wet. I needed to sit. Sweat began to trickle down my forehead and back. Why did I feel so sick?

I needed air. I couldn’t breathe anymore. Stars danced before my eyes, veiling my vision and setting me off balance. I searched through the dark colors and finally found Eric’s face. He stood at the opposite end of the room, staring intently at something. A painting. I tried to grab hold of myself. My skin began to tingle with pins and needles and my hands went numb. My entire body felt numb.

And then Eric saw me. His eyes caught mine and a smile quickly spread across his face. He began to make his way to me and I felt a pain like lightning shoot through my head. My body refused to move. My swimming vision cleared for a moment before total darkness came. I felt nothing, but I heard Eric calling my name. I heard the frantic sound of his voice begin to fade as the past rushed forth.

1205

A vial. Aurora lay sprawled across the blood-coated floor of her secret cabin, reaching for a vial. It was larger than the one Eric had drunk from. She repeated the words, “Soon, very soon…” Holding the potion to her lips, she drank it down and stated, “Now I can die, wither away, and be reborn…” she turned her head to face Eric, “With my brave warrior. My Eric.” Her skin was white as ivory as her lifeblood left her and her cold eyes closed. Her body went limp and the vial still stayed in her lifeless hand.

I stepped up to her and pulled the drink from her fingers. There was more inside…

I hesitated, then looked to Eric. I saw his empty shell, the hollow shell of a man once so full of life. She had not killed him. She wanted him alive with her, which was the sole reason why I trusted in the drink I held. I looked down at it bitterly. I tightened my grip around it and sat down on the edge of the bed Eric had died on.

I stroked his head, gingerly smoothing his blond hair into place. “My sweet Eric,” I said to him. “As I promised… I will not give up on you.” I looked to the corner of the cabin where a short blade gleamed in the shadows. A knife… “May not even death stop my heart from seeking to free my love.”

I drank down a mouthful of the bitter red liquid, set down the vial, and reached for the knife. I stood, held the metal to my heart. My hands shook and I whispered a silent prayer as I dug the blade into my chest. The pain was excruciating and I could feel my warm blood flowing over my hands. My body shook with pain as I fell to the bed.

I fell over my love, my face pressed against his chest, and I began to feel the cold emptiness of death lingering around me before it claimed my soul.

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