Sirens ~Nika Mühl

Chapter 22

The sky the loomed heavy over Cue's funeral, a vast blanket of angry clouds swirling above as it reflecting the turmoil in Nika's heart. The threat of rain hung in the air, mirroring the storm that was brewing within her. Grief clung to her like a second skin, suffocating, raw, unrelenting. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt normal, like herself. The numbness was all consuming, making it hard to breathe, let alone think clearly, all she could feel was the aching void Cue left behind.

Nika stood behind Azzi in the slow moving line of mourners, the stillness of the cemetery was broken by Azzi's gut wrenching sobs as her mom and dad tried to comfort her, but nothing quelled her grief. Her anguished wails echoed through the graveyard, a sound that would haunt Nika for the rest of her life.

The funeral was open casket. The sight of Cue lying there, so still and lifeless, sent a fresh wave of pain crashing over Nika. It didn't seem real. It couldn't be real. Cue had always been so full of life, so vibrant. Now she was gone and Nika couldn't reconcile the image of her smiling, laughing girlfriend with the cold, pale body in the casket.

Nika's turn finally came. Each step towards the casket felt like an eternity, her feet dragging as though she were walking through quicksand. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to flee away from the crushing reality that awaited her. But her body seemed to move of its own accord, driven by some unseen force.

When she reached the casket, her breath caught in her throat. Cue's face was serene, her features soft and peaceful, as if she were simply sleeping. But Nika knew better. Cue wasn't sleeping, she was gone and nothing could bring her back.

A strangled sob escaped Nika's lips as she reached out a trembling hand to touch Cue's cheek. The skin was cold, unnaturally so and the feel of it sent a shiver down her spine. She recoiled, clutching her hand as if she'd been burned...

Nika jolted awake, gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest. The weight of her nightmare lingered, pressing down on her as she tried to shake the remnants of the dream. Glancing at the clock she saw it was 2:07 a.m. The room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the hallway lights outside of her hotel room.

With a groan, Nika flopped back onto the bed, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her body ached with exhaustion, but sleep was elusive. She couldn't escape the hanging fear that plagued her thoughts, the constant worry that Cue was gone. The question of Cue's fate had taken up permanent residence in her mind, an ever present shadow that darkened everything else. It also didn't help that today was the final four game against Iowa and basketball was the least of her worries.

She'd done everything Cue asked, deleted her social media, disabled the Safari app on her phone, silenced all her calls and messages. She had cut herself off from the world, just as Cue instructed. But she couldn't cut herself off from her own mind. Her thoughts were a constant whirlwind, swirling around Cue, around what might've happened. Every moment, every memory, every laugh, and every fight played in her head like a never ending highlight reel.

Paige's soft snores filled the room, and Nika closed her eyes, trying to go back to sleep, praying that Cue Jones was out there, still alive, still fighting.

The pre game shoot around went exactly as Nika had expected it to go for her; terrible. Her mind was a thousand miles away, lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts, and it showed in her performance. She messed up plays she'd known for years, missed wide open shots that she usually made with her eyes closed, and got scored on more times than she could count. Frustration bubbled up inside of her, threading to boil over as she stormed off the court, snatching her water bottle to take a long gulp.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Geno approaching, his familiar figure cutting through the haze of frustration. She shook her head, wordlessly pleading to be left alone. She didn't want to hear a pep talk, didn't want to hear any well meaning words of encouragement. But Geno, ever the persistent coach, ignored it. He plopped down beside her on the bench, groaning as he settled into the seat. "I'll tell you Nika, I'm getting old," he said, his voice carrying a touch of amusement that was meant to lighten the mood.