Shielded.

Chapter 10

I look over to towards the clock; 7:03 a.m., but the light coming in through the window blinds me. I quickly clamp my eyes shut in response.

I adjust to my surroundings and then I open my eyes once more; the air is colder than usual.

"Brian?" I call out. I reach to the side of the bed next to me and realize that it's empty.

Just knowing about his absence makes me cringe. I look over to the bed next to mine.

Maybe that's where Twiggy will be.

"Twiggy?" I call out openly.

No answer.

The air feels more dense; damp.

I look to my palms, and to the mirror across from me.

I don't remember that being there.

I look and the girl in the mirror doesn't look like me, but I feel like me. My heart beat sounds the same; like me.

I race my hands up to my chest to feel my heart beating against it.

Who is she?

I stand up, feeling pain thrush to my head. Excruciating, but somewhat pleasing.

I walk to the mirror, and I study my facial features closely. I feel like me, but the bags under my eyes and my narrow skinny face, and bones protruding from in between my shoulders, arms, and hips seem to say otherwise.

Who is she?

This seems too real to not be... Real.

I breathe heavily, I breathe like I've ran a marathon. And the walls seem to be getting smaller and the air heavier.

I collapse to the floor groping my chest, breathing in and out. I grasp onto the carpet, and I feel like I'm falling.

Twiggy's face flashes in front of me and my eyes sting with hot tears and the light pierces my pupils fiercely.

I look down and I'm grabbing his wrist so hard my knuckles are white.

I gasp, and regather my surroundings. I glance around the room, and my hands meet my face and I know this is real, because the air is warm and I feel like I can breathe.

"Hey... Hey! Are you okay? Guys! She's awake, she's alright." Twiggy shouts.

I wipe the tears from my face.

Did he sit here with me and watch me, or did he hear me crying out for him? What did he do the entire time I was away?

Brian races in and immediately demands that I lie down.

"No. I'm okay. I just want to go home. I want a shower and I want to go home." I say.

The first time in a long time; I hate home.

"What?! Are you insane?," Brian's words pierce my ears, "you can't fucking drive home! You just sat in a corner and cried and mumbled to yourself all night and you think you can drive?!"

I stare harshly at him. I don't understand why he's yelling.

"Hey dude, lay off, okay?" Twiggy says back.

Brian withdrawals himself from the room and I stare at Twiggy.

"What is even going on?" I murmur.

"He's been on edge since last night." He replies.

"What time is it?" I ask.

He points to the clock across the room.

7:03 a.m.

"Twiggy what the fuck is going on? What happened? I'm... What the hell?" I stand up; bad idea.

My head throbs and my heart hurts.

"What?" He looks at me, leaning down somewhat to meet eyes. He's strangely taller than me even though he's the shortest one of the whole band.

"I, I had a weird dream... Or a vision, I guess? I felt like I was smothering, and..."

"Hey," he puts his hands on my shoulders, "breathe, relax, you just had a bad experience, that's normal."

I take a deep breath and nod.

"May I take a shower?" I ask.

"Yes, of course." He replies, leaving the room but coming back quickly with a towel in his hand.

"Thank you."

I make my way towards the bathroom, but Brian stops me. He fills the air with all of his apologies for allowing me to do drugs the night before, and for blowing up on me. But in all honesty, I don't even care. I'm too fixated on my vision, and I just nod and smile and tell him it's alright. That's what he wants to hear, anyway.

I guide my clothing off my body, the scent of my shirt when I lift it over my head is strong with sweat and booze.

I turn the water on as hot as possible and feel the droplets tingle and burn my skin.

I try to focus on what Twiggy told me about my vision... It was just a bad experience, that's normal... but it all seemed too real, too familiar.

I finish my shower quickly after I realized the time I wasted zoned out.

I put the towel over my body and I realize I don't have any clean clothing.

I stand in the bathroom for awhile, but I refuse to put on the same clothes as last night. So I give in and walk into the living room, shamelessly, my head held high.

I have no other choice. I assure myself.

"Brian," I say, my voice low and calm. Everyone's head turns to look at me, his eyes gazing up and down my toweled body, I feel vulnerable. "Do you have any clothes I can borrow?"

He stands up and leads me into the bedroom, pulling out a drawer and grabbing a pair of black sweatpants and a David Bowie t-shirt. "These don't really fit me anymore so they should fit you fine." He smirks.

"Thank you so much." I wait for him to leave to put the clothes on. They fit me snug, and I breathe in his scent. It's calming.

I grab my clothes from the bathroom, and I take one last look into the mirror.

I touch my face and I inspect it closely.

Who was she?

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-Marissa 🐽