A Dance with the Devil

Chapter 8.2

His head felt heavy. Not hurt but heavy.

His eyes were beginning to droop, again. He knew that the medicine was working but he tried to fight it. It was nearly midnight now. He must stay awake a little longer. He had to do something important.

Knowing his mother, she wouldn’t leave her study room until midnight. He had to wait or else he would never be able to do it without getting found out.

Ten minutes later, the clock was already at exactly 12 midnight. He sat up slowly, feeling a little dizzy. It had been more than a week since he woke up from a good one month sleep in the hospital but he still had those nauseous feelings whenever he tried to move with effort. He waited another ten minutes before climbing off his bed.

He trudged towards the stairs, making an effort not to fell on the ground. His body wasn’t cooperating. His vission blurred every now and then with every few steps and his head didn’t feel any lighter. He didn’t consider climbing down the stairs would be this hard. Every step barely encouraged him to take another one. Every step was torture. He was breathing heavily when he finally made it downstairs. He staggered towards the living room to the phone on the coffee table. He took the phone with his shaky hands, looking over the study room to check if his mother was still there.

The lights were off. Negative.

He didn’t waste time. His fingers moved quickly on the phone buttons. He dialled the number his brain was dictating, not even bothering to heck the number on the note he found in his hand when he woke up last week. There was really no need. He already memorized every word written on it after a few days of staring at it longingly.

It took si rings before someone finally picked up.

He spoke in a minimized sound. “Hello, Raven? It’s Trevor.”

Someone gasp in the other line. He frowned. Did he dial the wrong number?

“Hey, you there? Oh god, please tell me I got the right number…”

A familiar girl’s voice laughed with relief. “I thought you were never going to call me. Ever.”

He smiled. He definitely got the right number. “Not possible. I got your note.”

“Why so long, then?”

“You have no idea how much effort it worth me to call you. You have to pay me later.”

“Hearing my voice should be enough payment.” She teased.

“You haven’t change.” He couldn’t help smiling.

“It’s just a month. Not much has changed.”

“Hey,” he cleared his throat, looking over at the second floor to see if his mom somehow noticed that there was someone using the phone. “I don’t have much time. This call is against the rules. Mom will kill me if she finds out.”