The Everblooming Flower [Book One of The Dreamers Series]

Chapter Five

It was after dinner and I had showered, but I wasn't going to let myself sleep until I saw that it was late enough for everyone to be asleep. I checked the analogue clock and my wrist and saw the hands pointing in a way that meant it was almost midnight. There was no way anyone was still up.

I crawled out of bed and snuck into the kitchen, formulating a plan. It was a curious thing; I had been able to heal myself in my sleep. There was no evidence of ever having scabs. It had never happened before. Why now? Why me? There were too many questions and too many impossible answers that didn't seem so impossible.

I looked through the draws until I found the sharpest knife in the kitchen. It was a large cooks knife, and I could remember Samara once hurting herself with it while making Christmas dinner. Mum had helped her, and Dad had gone to finish the dinner. The food had been burnt, but it was still edible. Only slightly though.

Mum seemed to have magic hands though. She could make anything better just by smiling it seemed. I thought so at least. Whenever I was sick or hurt, she seemed to make things all better just by being there to help. Scratches, cuts, bruises, and colds seemed to disappear quicker than normal when she was the one taking care of you. The same was true for when Samara cut herself with the exact knife I was holding.

I looked at the cool silver blade, shining in the moonlight that leaked in through the window. It looked almost blueish in the dark. It reminded me of the lightning indigo light I saw in my dream. The moonlight even dashing from place to place as I moved it in the luminescent glow of the moon.

I knew no one was awake, but even so, a hid the knife in my sleeve and went into my closet, closing the door behind me and turning the light on. I took out some tissues and sat on my heels, the tissues resting on my thighs.

My heart was hammering in my chest, and a wash of warm enveloped my body as I began to shake, and my breathing quickened slightly. This was something I never saw myself doing. I had heard of people doing this in Health class, in books and even on TV, but I never imagined that I would be in a position to do it myself.

I can do this, I told myself. I quickly took out a notebook and pen, jotting a list down on a random page in the middle so that it wouldn't be easily found. My heart was racing, and my writing was shaky. My usually neat cursive had squiggles all through each connecting letter. I took a deep breath and read through what I had written.

Test One – Cuts
Test Two – Bruising
Test Three – Burns
Test Four – Broken Bone
Test Five – Frost Burn
Test Six – Stab Wounds
Test Seven – Poison
Test Eight – Death

I knew full well that if anything went wrong, I could die, and that was the scary part. If it didn't protect against all of that, I could very well end up trapped in whatever came after death. Heaven, Hell, darkness, the other side, a good place, a bad place, reincarnated. Anywhere.

I took another deep, shaky breath and held it for a second as I considered what I was about to do. Was this actually, something I wanted? Did I really want to go as far as hurting myself for answers? The truth of it scared me, because it was what I wanted, and I was willing to go that far. And that thought was the most terrifying of all.

I took the cool metal in my warm hand, slick with sweat. I put the knife back down, afraid of dropping it and quickly wiped my hands on my shorts, the silence deafening, and my heart pounding. I picked the knife back up and lifted my shirt to reveal my bell and hips. There was no way that thing was going anywhere near my thighs or wrists.

I brought the blade to my hip and my heart hammered against my chest at a seemingly dangerous speed. I sucked in a breath as the sharp object lightly grazed my skin but caused no damage at all. I closed my eyes and squeezed them shut as I quickly slid the object against my skin. I opened my eyes and saw the clumsily created cut. It was wobbly, and a little deeper than needed. The beads of blood started to form, and I caught them on one of my tissues, wiping the cut and pressing it to stop the bleeding.