State of Mind

Chapter Sixteen

THERESA

When the car stops moving, I wait inside the trunk for someone to let me out.
When light pours into my vision, I squeak, covering my eyes before letting Morona pull me to me feet, grinning as I stumble into the corner of the vehicle.
"You look dead", she laughs. "It's funny."
"Judging from the crazy look in your eyes, I'm guessing Mom hasn't found a cure yet", I say, blinking, rubbing my hip. "And I know I look dead. I feel like I'm dead."
"I found one", Samantha says, lightly touching my shoulder. "I just let Morona not take it last night so she could fight better."
"Damn right", my friend replies. "Now come on. You look like you're gonna faint."
"Funny", I mutter under my breath as I follow the two woman into the large hotel, stepping into a luxurious lobby, walking past the front desk to the elevator.
Morona presses the button for the sixth floor, and as the doors close, my head starts to spin.
I groan, stumbling backwards into the metal wall, gasping as the cold penetrates my back, making me think for a second that I'm still a prisoner.
"Theresa", my mother says gently next to my ear. "Breathe."
You're having another episode. You need to breathe.
I slide down onto the floor, my hands shaking as I bury my face in my knees, struggling to take a deep breath.
"You're safe."
"I'm not safe", I pant, clambering back to my feet as the knot in my chest goes away. "Wait till you see what they did to me."
"What?"
I turn to Morona and crack a small smirk. "Who do you think messed up Jake's face?" She points at me. "Yeah, and when you're bad, there's a consequence", I spit. "Wait till you see mine."
The elevator dings as the doors open, and I shut my mouth, stumbling after my mother as she leads the way down the quiet hallway to the room on the left.
"Thank god its close by", Morona sighs, her eyes twinkling as I'm gently pushed inside. "You seriously can't go any farther on your own."
"Shut up", I mumble, tripping over my own feet as she nudges me towards a bed. "It's not my fault."
"Whatever. Just sleep so you don't faint. Then please shower."
I whip my head around and glare at my friend before taking off the worn bloody socks on my feet.
"Can I have some help?", I ask, sitting on the mattress, tugging at my shirt, my muscles giving up as I try to pull it over my head. "I don't want to wear these anymore."
"Lock the door", Samantha tells Morona. "Then text Noah and tell him he can't come in yet."
"Okay." My mother turns back to me and slides the shirt over my head, gasping as soon as she sees my back.
"Theresa-"
"I told you", I say quietly. "Can you just please help me? I'll start talking after I've slept."
"Right. Sorry, I got a bit distracted", she apologizes. "I'll get you a shirt, okay?"
I bob my head up and down, letting out a breath as I hear someone pound on the door.
"You can't come in!", Morona yells. "I texted you, Noah!"
"Why not?!", he calls back. "You explained nothing in the message!"
"We're taking care of a, uh, changing issue", she says. "You assholes can wait two minutes."
"Oh. Right. Got it."
My mother taps me on the shoulder, making me jump slightly as I look up.
"Do you think you can change your pants while I help with your shirt?", she asks softly, holding out the soft flannel.
I nod my head again and strip out of my dirty, ripped and blood covered pants, stepping into the warm pajama pants as Samantha slides the shirt over my head, guiding my arms through sleeves before pulling me to my feet.
"Lie down for awhile", she says, pulling back the covers. "Some rest will do you a lot of good."