romeo remeemed

chapter 4

ariel

I ’ m running again, but this time there are no words, no language but the language of fear: the thump-thump-thump of my pulse leaping in my throat, frantic gasps for breath, whimpers that vibrate my ribs as the thing I dread draws closer. The stars spin, while below, the night is sharp-edged and terrible. I hurl myself down one dark street and then another and then out through an open field where stiff grass crinkles beneath my shoes. I stagger into a ditch and back out again, then down one row of a newly planted vineyard, stupidly thinking I can outrun my own crazy. But I can’t. The monster is inside me, a product of my sick mind. That’s the truth. No matter what I thought I saw on the playground. Ripples in the air … invisible claws tearing holes in the night … I must have imagined the ripples. I’m drunk. I’m not thinking clearly. It was a hallucination. A mirage. I’m not being chased; I’m being taken over. I didn’t think I was angry enough to bring on an episode, but obviously I was wrong. It’s a night for being wrong, a night where every good thing turns awful. I trip over something I can’t see in the moonlight and fall to the ground. I smell dirt and the hint of fertilizer, and then it hits. The cold slams into my back, stabs into my skin like knives carved out of ice. My back arches, and every muscle pulls tight as my body tries to force out the pain, but it’s impossible. The cold is already stealing up my spine on feet made of razor blades, bleeding into my brain, clearing the way for the things that howl and moan. Not me. Not me. Not me! Something deep inside me cries out, and for a second I wonder even crazier things. What if I really did see those ripples? What if the wine relaxed my defenses and let me spot something I’d never thought to look for before? Maybe the stories about people being possessed are true. Maybe the voices belong to someone else, something else. An evil spirit, or a ghost, or a demon, or—The screams rush in like a hurricane hitting shore, drowning out my thoughts. Desperate cries echo off the walls of my mind, sounds of endless sadness that pour into me like a glass of water hurled into a thimble. I overflow and tumble into unconsciousness, taking the misery with me down into the dark.