Mind Over Mask

13. Arya

I awoke in Angie's living room — the Howler was fast asleep in a chair beside me, and Angie looked like she was talking to herself. She rushed over to me upon realizing that I was up.

"You're okay!" she breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't feel okay.

"I'm just going to take a shower," I muttered to her. My head was throbbing, and although I could sense Angie's concern, I needed to be alone for a moment.

"Do you need help getting there? You seem a little wobbly." I didn't answer — not out of spite, just exhaustion.

"Okay, well... just holler if you need me!" she called from the living room. I was already halfway towards the bathroom.

I winced several times as I undressed myself. When I looked into the full-body mirror, I saw a Jackson Pollock painting — my body was splotched with purples and blues, and red scrapes highlighted where I had fallen on my back.

Perhaps the water will soothe the pain.

I turned the shower handle and searing, hot flames came out of the nozzle. I swiveled the shower nozzle away from me, but I was engulfed. I was back home, helpless. I tried calling out for help, but my throat felt dry. Flames swirled around me as I stood there, naked.

And then I saw someone approaching me — she had a small frame, short hair, and a familiar gait. The flames were practically kissing her skin.

As she neared, I recognized her — she was me.

"You did this," the other me bellowed.

"Wh-wha?" was all I could muster. My brain was firing at a million miles per second.

Initially, I thought she was wearing my super mask but it was red... and dripping. The mask had been carved into her face. My face.

"You killed him," she said. "You killed him."

Her voice was getting louder, and several others were joining in the chant.

"You killed him."

Her hair stuck to the bloodied mask and created a mess out of the intricate swirls. She looked crazed, deranged.

The flames were getting higher and higher and I collapsed to the floor. The voices were right.

"I killed him."