Within The Flames

Chapter Eleven

~ Healing yourself is connected to healing others. 

Chapter Eleven

I was shaken awake, the pain instantly escalating through my body. My back was stinging. I blinked several times until my vision adjusted to the light seeping in through the window. Rays of sun shined through and hit parts of my face and the bed. I struggled to sit up, my Mum's hand gripping my shoulder to aid me.

"What's wrong?" I croaked, attempting to ignore the pain that coursed through my back.

Mum's bright blue eyes were wide with alarm and her lips trembled.

"You're bleeding," she stated as she bent over to see my back. "Does it hurt?"

I hissed as she pressed her right hand along my shoulder blade. I saw that her hand was trickling with blood as she removed her hand. The blood dripped down her hand and onto my bed; it splattered one after the other.

"Turn around and lift your top up, let me take a look at your back," she ordered, pushing my shoulder to turn anyway.

I stretched over and pulled up my top from the back, so that most of my front was covered apart from a little of my stomach. I grunted and groaned as she lightly touched different spots of my back. I heard a few incoherent words escape her mouth, along with a few curses as she examined it.

"Go take a shower, I'll go call the doctor," she demanded, stepping away from me. The tone of each number was already sounding as she dialled Greg's number.

"Mum, wait!" I said as she paused, putting her hands down to her sides. "I'm fine. Isn't it obvious now that I'm becoming whatever else you guys are, can you just tell me, now?"

Last night, when I returned from the university, my parents weren't home yet. When I called Dad, he told me that an emergency had occurred and they were obliged to stay at one of the king's quarters. To me, it just sounded like another excuse to avoid telling me all the things they had been hiding from me all this time.

"Just go take that shower!" She finished off dialling his number and put the phone to her ear, exiting my room.

It was painful but I managed to get out of my bed, grabbed my undergarments with blue slim fit trousers and a very old cream t-shirt that I wouldn't mind getting blooded. I grabbed my towel and headed into the bathroom. I, carefully, peeled off my clothes and put my back to the mirror, twisting my head to look at my back. I gasped as it looked disgusting. There were two lines of open wounds, the skin and part of the flesh pulled to either side of the open cut. Somehow, I knew, I slept through the process of it being cut open. It looked absolutely hideous: like an ugly monster.

I hopped into the shower, the blood mixing with the warm water as it splashed into the bath and swirled into the drain. Even the slightest of movements was difficult, especially lifting my hands to lather my hair with my orange and honey shampoo, so I took longer than the usual fifteen minutes to take the shower. I stepped out of the shower, turning my back to the mirror and glancing at it to see what was left after the wash. The sight made me gag and cringe; although, there was still blood oozing out, it was only just a little bit, but the wound was more visible. I shuddered and turned away, quickly slipping on my clothes before the sight made me actually puke. It stung, immensely, as my clothes touched my back, but I had to suck it up; I'm sure Greg was already here.

After smoothing down my wet hair as best as I could by running my hand through it (I wasn't going to make an effort if it was just Greg), I descended the steps.

As I ambled into the kitchen, everyone turned their heads towards me; Mum and dad had their backs facing me but they twisted, and Greg sat opposite them, lifting his eyes up to look at me. It was rather awkward being the centre of attention and I felt my cheeks heat up. I took a few weary steps their way.