Chapter Eighteen - They're Coming to Take Me Away

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I awoke with a sharp pang, it was coming from the side of my neck. As I touched the area, I could feel no bumps, marks or anything really. I didn't know what I had expected to find in all honesty. All I knew was that something was off- with me and with those two men. I enjoyed their company, I thought of them as angels or saviors, I looked upon them with love in all its splendor. But for some reason, as I felt my aching neck, and jumped out of bed, I felt frightened. I felt uneasy and slightly paranoid. I felt as I had felt my first few weeks at their home. I felt like prey, like a mouse caught between a hawk and a fox. Like I was an easy meal for the next passerby.

Looking at myself in Lestat's mirror, I could see no injury. I felt tired, like I'd just been to battle, I felt I had won whatever battle I had been in but it didn't explain my strange feelings. I couldn't explain why I looked like myself but felt like I was something entirely different. I couldn't explain why my eyes looked different, they had this age to them, but yet I looked as young as could be. I was myself but in almost every physical and mental seeming aspect- I gazed upon myself with a strangers eyes. As I disrobed and looked through my armoire, I caught a glimpse of a slight purple tint to my upper thigh. Upon further inspection it appeared to be not only a bruise that had began to form- but a bruise in the shape of a hand. It was the strangest thing. I hadn't done it, to my knowledge at least. I hadn't been myself lately but I'd never take it upon myself to hurt myself like that. I compared the bruise to my own delicate hand. It couldn't have been my doing, the mark left behind was from someone much larger than I.

A man sized hand, I quickly gathered. I was scared and uneasy, I wanted to run- to where, I hadn't the slightest. But I felt like I was going insane. I hadn't done it, nor had I "been" with another as of late. I had no idea how that mark could've got there and that was what scared me.

Was I attacked? Did someone hurt me? Why couldn't I remember anything? Were my windows locked? I needed to find Lestat or Louis, surely they could relieve my sordid mind, this was ripping me apart. I felt like a stranger in my own skin, like what I was seeing wasn't real, someone else was orchestrating my breathing body, I wasn't sure what I was doing. Where I had been or how I could forget something so strange. I wanted Lestat to tell me I wasn't crazy, to lift me up and tell me I was safe in his arms.

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