Ugly Dog

Drown Your Copper Wings

Drown your copper wings in white
Drench them to their base
Distract the gods with their new light
Play another case
Make their color new once more
My darling take it away
Trick them with your distant lore
Prevent your fate another day

Maggie Patricia LeFon died on December 2nd, at exactly 8:03 pm. Mom had been in the room, holding her hand as she stared into the air unconsciously. The stroke had been too much on her brain, most of her motive nerve centers were already un-functioning by the time she arrived at the hospital. The doctors estimated the rest of her would only last a day, although that didn't stop them from trying to save her.
Novice found me on December 3rd, at exactly 6:34 am. From what they told me, Novice ran into the hospital in a complete panic after looking for me for at least an hour. There was a wide search party sent out with no news, and in the end it was my little brother who found me.
Novice was terrified. Apparently I was lying in the exact same thin river that he had been studying the night before, just a little ways down from where he was. I had two light cuts slanting from my inner elbow to my wrist, as if someone had tried to slit them but couldn't press hard enough. My palms were scraped to hell, and so were my knees, they said it looked like I had been climbing. Lastly, there was a bubbly red bump on my left temple, which would explain why I didn't remember anything past leaving Novice at his little river.
They let me go from the hospital a day later. A police report was filed, of course, with my little bit of information given in. Mom was a nervous wreck, filing out paper work and making calls to whoever she needed to. The bank informed her that Maggie's account information would arrive in the mail, along with a detailed summary of what her will inquires.
We returned home via moms tiny little red car. Novice got front dibs while I was sprawled out in the back, one hand over my stomach and the other one covering my eyes from the noon sun. I was still in my hospital gown, with my muddy clothes in a plastic bag in the trunk. Although I felt sick to my stomach, I was more eager to get into a change of clothes than to rest. With my current migraine, I doubted rest was possible.
Novice and mom practically carried me into the house, stopping sometimes when I got too dizzy to move. With the help of mom I changed into a black t-shirt and some green flannel Pajama pants, then flopped down onto my bed, happy with the familiarity of my own room. The thought of someone being out there, someone after me, was extremely unnerving. Not to mention I couldn't remember anything about said person, or anything that had happened. Sometimes, when the house became silent, I tried to imagine running through the dark of the forest. The smell of damp soil and the adrenalin coursing through my veins came easy, I had felt all that before. I could not apply these feelings to any realistic memory, though, no matter how hard I tried. Eventually my mind dissolved into a fitful, fevery rest that lasted yet another day. Mom said that I had reached 104.2, and she was just about to bring me to the hospital when just as suddenly my temperature dropped again.
My memories became like stepping stones. Few were solid, safe moments that were clearly focused in my mind. They stayed still, never changing, a constant reminder of my hospital visit and the drive home. The others were a coursing river, moving and changing and never exactly the same. My own fever dreams began to collide and mix with them, confusing my consciousness even more.
It was another two days before my condition stabilized. I had been fever free for one whole day, and I was practically conscious for all of it. Mom returned to work a day later.
She put my phone on my night stand and assured me a thousand times that she was just one call away, and that if I needed anything Novice was my own personal servant. I waved her off, insisting that I felt much better, and excited at the thought of having some alone time. She left with a kiss and a light slam of my door.
The silence that then enveloped the house was earsplitting. Throughout my sickness there had always been noise, either mom hurriedly moving around or just the ringing in my own ears. This was the first silence I had heard in two days.
Even in the past few nights, when I would wake up at 1 am in complete dizziness, there was sound. Sometimes, in my more conscious moments,  I could make out the grumbling of the coffee machine as mom spent late nights reading funeral rights and police reports. Other nights, it would be my own labored breathing that awoke and panicked me, causing a screaming fit that only ended with my mothers soothing hand on my head.
I thought I could hear Novice in his room, though I could be mistaken. If I concentrated , the creak of the wooden floors heightened, and the soft clink of colored pencils being pulled out of holders almost manifested itself in my mind.
I bit my lip. I had to use the bathroom.
Mom had been the one to hold my weight and guide me down the hall. She would come into the bathroom with me and then turn around respectfully until I had finished and washed my hands. There was only Novice here now, though, and I didn't feel like having him wait in the bathroom for me.
I threw my covers to my side, and took a moment of preparation by staring at my feet. I wriggled my toes a few times, then my ankles, and then my knees, working out all the cricks that had become them in my days of rest. Then, I guided my right leg off the bed, with my left one following. I took me another two minutes to get my body vertical once my feet were off the bed, and then another minute of stretching before I was ready to try my hand at standing.
Using my nightstand as a crutch, I slowly life's myself to stand. It wasn't as hard as I had imagined, luckily, and soon I stood in the middle of my room like a new born baby deer with shaking knees. I opened my door and peaked out the hall. From what I could see the breakfast counter was packed with messy papers, unopened envelopes, and moms laptop. Moms door was open as always, and Maggie's door was closed. I briefly wondered if mom had went through her belongings yet before looking to Novices door. Open just a creak, per usual, and sunlight streaked into the hall through his open window.
With my hand to the wall, I slowly made my way past his room and to the bathroom. The teal tile hurt my eyes, and our white towels and floor didn't help either. I stumbled towards the window that hung over our bathtub and shut the shades with a snap. I leaned on the wall, breathing heavily.
How much had I eaten in the past three days? Was I dehydrated? My vision was starting to get blurry, and I could feel my knees wobbling much more than they were before.
"Val?" Novice was at the door, speaking with a nervous voice. He must have seen me when I passed his door, or else I was being louder than I knew. I turned back to look at him, reading his face as more hesitant than nervous.
"Yeah?" My voice shattered to the ground like glass. It sounded broken, much worse than it had this morning.
Novice stared on, not making any move closer to me. He seemed preoccupied, but I turned my head back to lean on the wall before I could get a good reading.
"I saw something really weird in the forest, when you disappeared."
This bought a load of fresh new energy into my body. I straightened just a bit and turned around, sitting awkwardly on the bathtubs edge and hoping that Novice couldn't see how strained I was.
"The kidnapper?" I questioned.
Novice shook his head and crossed his arms, his eyes twitching around the room until they finally settled at my feet. Looking at him now I could see that his hair was a wreck, black masses of knots made it stick straight up in the air, and his left forearm was a bright red from fingernail induced scratching. It was his nervous habit, scratching, a lot of times in that particular spot. Sometimes when we were younger, I could tell if he was lying by his neck and arms. If they were red: lie, if they were clear: truth. Through the years he has either stopped lying to me, or gotten much better at hiding it. Either way, his scratching made me tingle.
Something was wrong.
"No, it wasn't a man." He began. He bit his lip and shuffled, and my stomach jumped. I put my hand to my chest and leaned over just slightly as my stomach cramped up. I was going to be sick, maybe getting up wasn't the best idea. Cold blood ran through my body as I tried to slow my breathing and calm down. Novice hardly seemed to realize that anything was wrong.
"I think I saw Maggie." He whispered. I put my head in my hands, trying to block light from my pounding brain. My head was on fire, along with my chest and stomach. Every breath was accompanied by a ricochet of pain I could barely contain. My limbs felt airy, as if I had lost all control of them. A few tears escaped my eyes and trickled down my cheek. My hands were shaking.
"I don't know how, but I swear I saw her. She was so clear, like a beacon. And then - and then I lost you."
"Novice." I groaned. I couldn't stop shaking, and the pain in my body was more than I had ever felt before. Shivers ran up and down my nerves, moving had become impossible.
"I'm so, so sorry Val. It's my fault, I left you, and then you got attacked. I was just so scared!"
"Novice!" I choked out. He finally seemed to realize that something was wrong, and walked towards me hesitantly. I groaned and dropped to the bathroom floor, pressing my head against the cold tile in hopes of some cold relief. I held my trembling hands to my heart and cried as hard as I could, fire was fighting my blood and my body didn't stand a chance. I was going to die.
"I'm calling an ambulance!" Novice shrieked, but I made a noise of protest.
"Don't leave me." I murmured. I could see him out of the corner of my eyes, standing half out the bathroom door. I felt horrible, keeping him from saving me; but I couldn't stand dying alone. If my life was ending, I didn't want to leave my brother without a goodbye. A tear fell from Novices eye, but he didn't move. He crouched down on the bathroom floor right where he had stood, staring at me in utter terror.
A jolt of pain ran through my body, forcing my body to twitch. My legs stretched out, and I coughed so deeply you'd think I'd drunk the whole sea. I rolled over onto my side, body still shivering and twitching uncontrollably.
"Val, you're having a seizure." Novice told me as another painful jolt flowed through my body. I sucked in air and then choked it back out again in the form of sobs. Tears streaked my face, but even they seemed to burn.
"Don't bite your tongue, okay? You'll be fine, I know a kid who has seizures in school, it'll be over soon." Novice shuffled forwards, still hesitant to get too close. I watched as he scratched at his left forearm once again.
With as much strength as I could muster I rolled onto my back, which made it much easier to breathe. Another twitch, and my organs felt like they were collapsing. I could feel myself slipping in and out of conciseness as the jolts became more frequent.
"Novice!" I screamed, rolling back into my side and curling up into a ball. I could feel my little brother scoot closer to me, jolts still shot through my body but at a much smaller level. I no longer felt like I was burning.
I pressed my hands to my mouth as hiccups rattled my body. It was a few minutes before the jolts stopped completely, and even then I couldn't stop myself from trembling at the experience. Novice pressed a light hand to my shoulder and murmured something that sounded like static to my ears. I cringed and tried to block out the sound, turning to look at him.
As soon as our eyes met, he jumped back into the doorway. His dark brown eyes were wide, and his cheeks suddenly lost all color.
"Val?" He questioned, gripping his left forearm tighter than I'd ever seen before. I blinked, and turned my body towards him with shaking muscles. He stepped away from me until his back was pressed to the hallway wall.
"Novice, I'm okay, it's alright now." I told him. I got to my knees with more strength than I had before, then used the sink to pull myself up. "Let's call mom, we can go back to the hospital."
Novice still looked shell shocked. "Valentine." He said. My eyes twitched faster than they ever had to his face, then his arms, then his body language. Nervous, heavy breathing, probably had a tuna fish sandwich recently. He wouldn't stop staring at me, and finally I turned to look in the mirror.
My nose was gone.
There was a pink, peeling gash surrounding the black whole where it once was. I could see a little slip of bone just at the top corner of the hole, and then I diverted my eyes to something else.
My eyes. My eye. One eye, singular. My right eye was replaced by a foggy grey shell thorough which I could see nothing out of. There was a long, ragged scar running across my face starting at that eye too. My right eye, though perfectly in tact, was blazing amber like some kind of fire monster. All around my jaw were small, messily healed scars that looked like a squirrel had tried to claw its way up my face. I once thought that zits were the ugliest things to ever grace me, but this took the cake. In one seizure I had suddenly turned into a Deadpool/zombie mashup.
I reached up to touch the long scar across my face, when a juicy ripping sound interrupted me. I braced myself on the bathroom sink and cringed. The skin on my face was tugged in all different directions, I could feel that, but it wasn't painful. For a few minutes, my face was putty, being pulled and sculpted in every direction. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to normal. No open gashed nose, no long scar, no white eye. I turned my head to Novice, who looked like he had just witnessed the devil rise from hell.
I opened my mouth, ready to speak but having no words in my mind that could fit the situation. Novice beat me to it, his voice a sullen, low whisper. But I heard it, and I would have heard it in my own head even if he hadn't had said it.
"Valentine." He said. "What are you?"