~Dark Places~

My roomie's chapter of pain.

I was locked in a dark room.  There was no light; the thick, black curtains were drawn tight over the one window.  It was a dark, empty space that I was in, with bare grey walls.  The furniture had been removed for the day so that the only thing left inside was me.

It was for the best.

My body was sprawled across the floor, limp and weak, while I pulled in deep breaths trying to wash away the torment of my maturation.  I wanted to know how much longer it would be until it all ended, but, at the same time, I was afraid of being told.  I wanted the pain to stop.  I did not want to know that I was still a long ways away from that goal.

I felt my stomach tighten, and I knew that another wave was on its way.  I rolled myself into a ball as well as I could, trying to brace myself for the spasm, knowing that it would never help.  It was all I could do to keep from screaming when it hit.

How do you describe the agony I went through that day?  It was like being in the middle of a fire in Antarctica.  Every piece of skin felt like it was being ripped off as my insides were trying to collapse.  I felt a whimper escape my lips, but heard only an endless ringing in my ears.

It went on and on forever.  My gut would lurch, my body would tighten, and I would collapse again, exhausted.  I am certain that I blacked out at least twice.  Then it stopped.

I waited and waited for another spasm, but it didn’t come.  Shakily, I pushed myself up.  My arms and legs were very weak, but I managed to stand up and stumble to the door.  I leaned against it and turned the doorknob.  Still locked.

“G-guys,” I panted, “I think i-it’s over.”

From the other side, I heard Gina calling back.

“Al says you can’t come out ‘til midnight, Des.  Sorry.”

“What time is it?” I groaned.

“Um… eleven, uuh… forty-three.  Just a bit longer, Des.”

“Does he know that-?”

I screamed out as some sort of electric current shot up my spine.  The sudden pain made me drop to the ground in agony.  Though I still heard Gina talking to whoever had spoken when it hit, the returning white noise in my ears blocked the words.  My back contorted as the muscles all pulled at the same time.  As I thrashed about on the floor, feeling weak and mortal, the thought that I would not survive the night passed through my head.  At that point, I was no longer sure that I wanted to.

 

I pushed myself back into consciousness piece by piece through a mental sieve.  My pain had faded to a dull throbbing in my shoulders and spine, but my energy had been wiped out.  It took every ounce of energy I had just to lift my eyelids.

Jackson reclined in an expensive-looking green chair in the middle of the room.  His red eyes were shut peacefully, but his brown hair stuck out in an uncharacteristically angular manner.  I thought he was asleep, but his hands rested on his stomach interlocked and the thumbs chased each other slowly in a circle.  Sissy sat on the floor next to him, hand-sewing some kind of blue fabric by the light of a dim lamp a foot away.  After a moment, I realized that I was in the den, a room which Gina had converted just for us to relax in.  I lightly brushed my hand over my makeshift bed.  Though I felt a plush fabric, I was sure that I was on the long, low blue couch that sat against the far wall.

“Sissy?” I croaked, my throat dry and sore.

She looked up at me, but continued sewing.  Jackson opened his eyes and turned towards me as well.

“Could you cheh- check in on Angie?”  I breathed.  “Make sure she’s okay?”

She nodded once and said, “It’s only three, so I can’t go yet.  Wait until the sun is down again.”

Jackson pushed the foot of his recliner down easily then stood up and moved towards the door.

“Jackson?” Sissy questioned.

Jackson didn’t turn around.  He simply waved her off with one hand, saying, “He’s gotta eat, Sis.”

Sissy nodded and returned to her sewing as I watched Jackson leave the room.

“Sissy?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it three in the afternoon?”

“Yup.  December eighth,” she grinned.

I shut my eyes and leaned back again.  Fifteen hours had passed, and I had just slept right through them.

Jackson brought me a fat, warm coffee mug of blood, which I eagerly drank, surprised by how good it was after having been starved the day before.  I drained it in no time, and sleep captured me again before I could do anything else.

Author's Note

Will he make it through?