Yuanfen (AlanxJeff) VI

9

Jeff

Each nightmare was worse than the last.

My powers were out of control to the point that a brief touch triggered a vision, and now they were so vivid that they left me breathless. Every time one of those visions assaulted me, I felt as if my soul was being ripped from my body and thrown into an abyss of images and sensations that I couldn't comprehend. The visions were so intense that they left me trembling, with my heart racing and cold sweat running down my skin.

As the days went by, it became difficult to differentiate the visions from reality and the nightmares induced by the fever, which seemed to give no respite. The fever consumed me, and in my delirium, the visions mixed with deep memories and fears, creating chaos in my mind from which I couldn't escape. I saw familiar faces distorted by pain, heard voices calling me from the past, and felt the weight of a guilt I couldn't explain.

The doctors examined me countless times without finding any problem in me other than my powers. Their worried faces and whispers among themselves only increased my despair. I didn't understand why I had lost control. I had worked hard to control them, but now they were like an uncontrolled fire that was consuming everything and I couldn't do anything to stop them. I felt like I was losing myself, that each vision took me further away from the person I used to be.

On one occasion, I heard Wahl say that he hadn't thrown away the cake. That he had kept it thinking that if it had something strange, the origin and treatment could be found, but the doctors found nothing. It hadn't been the cake's fault, they concluded. They said it was me. That perhaps, due to the panic attack, I had lost control and was still immersed in it.

In my moments of lucidity, I tirelessly dedicated myself to knitting Alan's scarf. Each stitch I made with the needles was a desperate attempt to stay connected to reality, an effort not to let myself be consumed by the fever and nightmares. I think that was what I hated most about the fever: I feared I wouldn't be able to finish it in time. The idea of not being able to give Alan the scarf filled me with deep sadness, one that mixed with the despair of not being able to control my own powers.

I didn't even have the time or energy to write to him, but his letters comforted me and lightened my discomfort. Every time I received one of his letters, I felt a spark of hope, a reminder that I wasn't alone.

Dear Jeff,

I know you are going through difficult times and I want you to know that I am here for you, even from a distance. I can't imagine what you are going through, but I want you to know that I think of you every day. Remember that you can always count on me, even when everything seems dark. You are the strongest and bravest person I know, and I know you will overcome this.

I love you more than words can express.

With all my love, Alan.

After reading them, I put more effort into the scarf. Each word from Alan gave me the strength to keep going, to fight against the fever and nightmares. Then I would fall prey to the fever and nightmares, and so several days passed in this endless and painful cycle.

When Dad, desperate, announced that we would go to Aunt Gertru's village so she could block my powers while we understood what had happened to me and started training them again, I already had it ready. I even wondered how I did it when I was barely conscious of things. But I did it.

When I packed it for Dad to send to the palace before we left, Wahl, with his characteristic sense of humor, told me that even the embroidery was adorable.

"The embroidery?" I wondered. I had embroidered in golden letters "A" and "J", the initials of our names. My cheeks burned and felt even hotter than when I had a fever. I must have done it while delirious from the fever.