The Price of Love

◆ 4 ◆

The enormous Baccarat chandelier fell 20 feet through the air and landed on one of the tables, sending a shattering of diamond shards flying in every direction. Screams erupted from the surrounding guests. In a matter of seconds, panic ensued as people immediately began scrambling for the exits. Security guards were trying to push through the incoming crowd, momentarily blocking the doors.

Numb with disbelief, I turned to my mother.

"Mom-?"

The word got caught in my throat and came out as a choke. She was on her knees, one hand on the stair railing and the other clutching the side of her throat, from which a scarlet stain was spreading.

In a state of confused senselessness, I reached up to my own neck. There was something sharp embedded in the flesh, but I could feel no pain. Unable to believe what my own senses were telling me, I pulled the object out. My fingers came out dipped in shockingly bright blood, covering what appeared to be a skinny needle-like cylinder with what appeared to be an injection tube at one end.

"Daphne!"

Unfeeling, I looked at the direction from which my name had been called. My father was still standing on stage, holding onto the podium. One side of the stage had been blasted apart, leaving gaping marble cracks in the floor and walls. The curtains were on the verge of catching fire, and I could see several men in suits wildly attempting to discover the cause of the explosion. Screams were still floating through the otherwise deathly silent air, and I could hear a faint sobbing from somewhere in the back. It was the after scene of a war, where nothing made sense and everything was quiet.

Before my father could take a step towards where my mother and I stood covered in blood, another deafening blast sounded from the stage. I saw the security guards fall. This time, the curtains went up in flames. And this time, it was my father who suddenly became still for one second before grabbing his throat, spluttering blood from his lips. He keeled over, unable to do much more than choke.

"Daphne!"

I let the strange dart-like object drop from my fingers. Drips of blood followed with it. I could taste metal in my mouth, experiencing the same as my parents, who were now doubled over and coughing up blood. My mother was attempting to stand up, but her knees kept giving away. It was almost surreal, how quiet the room had become. There was a faint, rushing noise coming from somewhere, coming from everywhere, like waves crashing against shore.

"Daphne!"

The world has ceased to breathe, so why was my name still being called? Things didn't exist anymore, things weren't things. There was just a lot of blood and white-crested waves, like a radio transmission going through moments of static in between actual words. I could feel nothing but a warm wet liquid dripping from the side of my neck to pool against the diamonds of my gown and a feel of silent numbness creep through my veins, icing my thoughts into a false sense of security.

"Daphne, go!"

Ignoring the yells, I felt a weakened sense of dread wash over me. My back to the rest of the ballroom, a blossom of pain traveled up my legs as I dropped to my knees, breaths coming out in heavy, slow gasps. My chest constricted, like there was something heavy sitting on me preventing me from taking in oxygen. I heard my name being called again, and again, or maybe I didn't and I was just imagining it. I couldn't decipher thoughts or feelings anymore, just the sound of crashing waves.

It was extremely difficult to avoid passing out when my mind wanted nothing more to do than to shut down, but somehow I held on. Maybe it was for the desperation to know whether my parents were still alive, or maybe it was the ultimate fight of wills, or maybe it was because I knew something else had to happen before I lost consciousness, but somehow I held on.