Of Illnesses And Antidotes

Chapter Twenty-Three

I sprint down the field, dodging potholes and furrows, pumping my arms and stretching my legs. There's the thudding of my feet and the steady wheezing of my breath, fusing together into a crude melody that accompanies the morning lilt of the early birds. Fresh, cold air infiltrates my thin clothing and a fine film of sweat masks my skin. A cool breeze teases my loosely tied-up hair as I run, chasing the void ahead of me, powering into the same loop that I've been running for nearly thirty minutes.

"Wouldn't want to worry anyone else now, would you?"

Gritting my teeth, I push myself harder. My lips are sculpted into a scowl and my head begins to throb with pain... or is it something else? Anxiety? Fear? Ire? Closing my eyes briefly, I take a deep breath then lengthen my strides and continue.

"You don't have to listen to her all the time."

"Leave me alone," I growl, slapping the side of my head in desperation.

Just go away.

Glancing up, my eyes land upon the group of girls in front. They stare at me curiously, then quickly divert their attention to the front again when they realise I'm looking straight at them. Sighing, I slow my pace and gradually reign it into a gentle walk. My heart is pounding, but I'm not sure it's the adrenaline that's provoking its rapid rage.

Reaching the edge of the wall, I slow to a halt and breathe slowly, catching my breath as several other girls continue to jog past me, puffing and panting as they force themselves to carry on for another lap or two. Rolling back my shoulders, I wince slightly as the tenderness of my axons is brought to mind by a sudden, sharp pain. Maybe this was too soon. Maybe another week off would've done it. Shaking my head firmly, I drop the thought from my mind and head back inside. There's nothing like an early morning run to free my mind of everything that's been going on.

Not that any of it has disappeared. Every detail remains raw in my head, scarred into my memory like a trench dug behind enemy lines: permanent and perpetual.

I follow the corridor and enter the dormitory, thriving with tired girls and hyper girls and hungry girls and those still managing to sleep through the commotion. Locating my bunk amid the mobs, I grab a towel and a clean jumpsuit then head off to the showers. Maybe if I sit under the shower, I can drown in something other than my own thoughts.

Surprisingly, out of the fifty odd cubicles there are, less than half of them are occupied. I lock myself in the one furthest away from the door and swiftly cleanse my body, sticky with sweat and morning dew. My fingers scrub my skin raw, clawing away at the layers upon layers of bewilderment and terror that have tortured me ever since I saw his body. Zach's body. I look myself up and down, disgusted at what I see. Under the camouflage of an average human being, there's a liar, a thief, a meddler, a secret keeper and a person who couldn't save her friend's life.

My hands move frantically over my body, sharp nails scraping against my arms, my thighs, my stomach, my waist, the nape of my neck, again and again and again. I scratch away at the filth, the lies, the stolen secrets and the guilt that is tearing me apart. Has torn me apart. Then I go too far.

In a slow trickle, it dribbles down my leg and splatters onto the floor, mingling with the running water that's scalding my skin. I barely acknowledge it at first. My eyes watch it accrue and deepen in colour for seconds. Minutes. Hours. Or what feels like it.

All of a sudden, hot turns to cold. Jumping back in fright, my foot slides over the tiled floor and my legs give way beneath me. I smash against the ground. First my legs, then my chest, and finally my head. The sound resonates around me, like a crack of thunder that shakes up the stormy sky. I feel numb. Cold. Weak. I can't move. I can't speak. I watch the water quickly turn to crimson and vanish into the drain on the floor, along with every drop that's left of my life. My axons are on fire.