The Descent of the Devil

CHAPTER 2

Her blue eyes fluttered open.
There was someone softly murmuring in the room next door. It took Camilla a minute to realise that it was actually a news reporter from the T.V. She had heard it countless times.
For a moment she did not remember what had happened to her the previous night. Trying hard to remember, the memory poured back in her mind like cold water. She remembered feeling sick, having black and white vision, falling in a swirl and then hitting the floor.
She had no idea how or why this thing had occurred maybe she was just too tired.
She raised herself from the bed and lightly flung her legs from the mattress. Her heart, and her head felt unusually light. She walked slowly towards the dresser, feeling weak and feverish. She picked up the hairbrush but her hair were too tangled to get straight in one shove and she felt too weak to try again and again. So she left her hair tousled and tangled and went to wash her face.
The water was cool on her warm skin. She gazed at her reflection for a mo as water drops slid down her face like sweat. She looked unfamiliar to herself in the mirror. Her complexion was pale unlike its usual self. Her eyes were puffy and they had lost their shine. And her eyes were suddenly heavy. They seemed to weigh a ton.
Ignoring all these new changes in herself which had occurred overnight for no particular reason she could think of, Camilla Tomlinson made her way to the living room.
Sitting on the sofa was her brother Harry, staring at the T.V set like an idiot.
'What does old Jesse has on the news?' Camilla casually asked, as she perched herself on the edge of the sofa.
'Shut up. The weather's bad,' Harry grunted.
Camilla looked at him in disbelief. Growing up, she had always known a Harry who was a fan of stormy weathers. He would never refer to it as a 'bad' weather. Plus he would never say 'shut up' unless he was joking. But his deep black eyes were fixed to the TV screen and he was seriously serious.
Camilla shook her head and got up.
'We advise you to stay home and finish all your outdoor tasks within an hour, as according to the forecast, there is a huge rainstorm predicted. . . Charlie, back to you. . .' The voice from the TV trailed off as Camilla made her way to her mum's room.
She knocked lightly with her knuckles. To her surprise, perhaps for the first time in forever, Camilla heard her mum weep. Her gaze fell on her mum who was sitting on the desk chair with her head buried in her arms. Her body was shaking.
Camilla ran up to her. 'Mum? Mum whats wrong?'
Mrs Muller raised her head. Tears glistened on her wheat colored skin. Her blue eyes twinkled as tears trimmed her eyes.
'What happened?!' Camilla was surprised to hear herself shout.
Her mum shook her head looking confounded. When Camilla insisted and asked her again why she was crying she said uncertainly: 'I have no idea why.'
Crying for no apparent reason? When nothing had happened? She was sure Mrs. Tomlinson would never lie to her. So why was she crying like that? This all was so weird.
When Camilla was sure her mum wasn't crying anymore, she made her way out of her room.
Just then, loud tapping on the window shutters informed her that it had started to rain. The smell of rain filled the small cottage. As she placed her palm against the window pane she shivered and stared out at the people rushing in different directions, shielding their heads with umbrellas, their coats flapping around them, sharp wind piercing their faces as they ran against the wind, splashing rain water;
It looked as if it might snow too. Camilla wondered about the weather. Most of the time people talked about weather when they had nothing else to talk about, yet today it seemed weather was the most important subject to argue over. Maybe it was only the mind of Camilla gifted with deep thinking, her thoughts swam deeper and she wondered what was making it all so hard to rain in the mid of June.
Nature had never acted so out of order before. And neither had her mum, nor Harry.