The Bitten

Chapter 1: The Undoing

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CHAPTER 1

The Undoing

I scream so loudly my ears ring. I thrash in the blindingly white sheets that belong to my mom’s hospital only to be scolded by my own body. Trapping the pain inside of me is the layer of skin that I so badly want to tear into. Any relief, even if momentary, would be bliss. The hospital bed whines as I convulse and twitch in agony. Luckily this room, like all the rooms in the hospital, is soundproof. This way no one will know I am a Bitten if I do, by some off chance, survive. I’d like to though; my sixteenth birthday is in roughly four hours. Unfortunately though, I may not live to see it considering I have about ten minutes left of my young life. Except for my single mother, no one lurks outside my room. She stands alone, and glues her eyes to my writhing body from her view through the wide window. She looks utterly devastated from what I can see in between my havoc wreaking squeezes of my eyelids. The most depressing sight for a Concordian is to see their young suffering from a vicious bite from the Nyoka. It’s the closest to hopelessness a Concordian can ever get. There is nothing she can do and she knows it. She cannot even be in the same room as me, for my screaming is far too harsh for her old exhausted ears. I watch as she crumples to the floor as she watches me screech and thrash. It hurts so badly to see her like this; it’s blinding to my already wet, tearful eyes. I feel the dread setting in, and at this point, I can’t wait for all of it to end. I was born in this hospital, I have grown up in this hospital, literally, and I will die here. This hospital, as creepy as it sounds, is literally my home. We’ve basically lived in the private apartments that make up the attic of the hospital. I sigh. It quickly escalates into a howl of pain. What a surprise.

Then I see what I think might be my last glimpse of heaven. A young volunteer, I assume, who can’t be much older than me appears. Mother lurches to her feet at the sight of him. He shouldn’t be here. If he leaks about what is happening, they’ll kill my mother. I’ll already be dead of course. What a cold thought.

He yells at Mother, who shakes her head and gestures towards me. He is a tall brunette with just the right amount of shagginess to his hair. In a word, he’s gorgeous. I hiccup a laugh at myself for thinking this, then I let out my worst scream yet. Yeah, note to self, don’t laugh. In response, the vase of flowers beside me breaks and shatters all over the floor. Almost as if acting out in defiance, it sends glass, water, and flowers everywhere. The noise startles them. Mother looks paralyzed, but the boy snaps.

He yells, “Fine. Do nothing! This girl will not die.” He shoves Mother to the floor and bursts into my room. I feel bad for Mother, momentarily, her hips will hurt. The sympathy quickly vanishes as he rushes to my side and kneels on a knee. I bet the glass just went through the soft cotton of his scrubs.

 I grunt to refrain from crying out as he composes himself and says as calmly as possible though his own pain, “How are you?”

That was a stupid question. “Great,” I shove the words out of my scratched throat in frustration. I realize I feel frustration. I have never felt frustration before. The venom is hitting me hard.

“My name is Minor,” he says gently as he grabs my hand. I notice the brand behind his right ear. The letter G is prominent. He’s a Guiltentineal. “Yours?”

What is his freaking deal? “Spencer,” I grunt. I can’t help but thrash and scream this time. It’s getting worse fast.

He doesn’t flinch during my tantrum. “That’s a pretty name.” All the while I’m wondering who let this idiot into a hospital. I scream once more in frustration. He pops an eyebrow and throws his mouth sideways in an angelic grin. “Do you trust me? I can help you if you can trust me.”