Facade (Romola 1)

23: Buzz and Heat

"What?" Romola sat up so fast that her brain might have fallen off if it wasn't encased in her skull. Regret filled her mind immediately. The pounding in her head increased, as though her village people were dancing bata on every inch of her brain.

"You don't know how I felt Romola. Young, pregnant, alone. My mother threatened to throw me out of the house in the middle of the night."

Romola tried to focus on Yetunde's words but the words became a buzzing sound in her ears before becoming distinct and clear. "I didn't have anywhere to go. Everyone kept looking at me like I was a prostitute so I had to tell them something, Romola. I had to save myself and my baby."

"Yetunde...I." Romola began but the rest of her words were blocked by the chunk of food coming up her throat. She flew to her feet, turning towards her room but her legs refused to obey the command to run.

She was unable to stop herself from retrenching on the floor. Her brain began to pound as though her village people were holding an intense dance competition on her head.

"Jesus!" Yetunde stepped away, anxiety clouding her face as she stared at Romola's vomit. "You're not supposed to throw up."

The world blurred before Romola's eyes, becoming one full canvas of a thousand colours. Something, she suspected, was wrong.

Something was wrong but she didn't know what. She opened her mouth to speak but she had forgotten how to form words. There was no word to express the pain she felt so she settled for a scream.

Yetunde stood before her, staring at the things she had thrown up. She felt weak. Her bones were liquid sheathed by her frail skin.

"Romola." Yetunde crouched beside her but kept her distance from the vomit on the floor. Yetunde separated before Romola's eyes, becoming two then four.

She struggled to focus on all four and a searing pain took residence in her brain. She clutched her head, lips trembling, as she let out a wail, then a sob and another until she was crying.

"You're not supposed to act this way. You're supposed to be happy like me." Yetunde said, standing on her feet. "It's too early. You'll feel better in a few minutes I promise."

Romola stopped hearing Yetunde speak. Yetunde was talking. She could see Yetunde's lips moving but she could not make out a single sound Yetunde was saying. The buzzing continued in her ears.

She felt more vomit coming up her throat. She opened her mouth to vomit but all she did was dry heave. It was even worse than actually throwing up. Her stomach seemed to press against her ribs.

She shrieked, realizing that her chest seemed to be threatening to open up and her heart seemed to force itself out of an inexistent hole in her chest.

"Yetunde," she wheezed. "Help....Help."

"You'll be fine, Romola. Just stop throwing up. Ecstasy doesn't hurt." Yetunde, all four of them, walked to the red couch opposite her and sat down with a smirk. "You'll be fine soon. I would never let anything bad happen to you."

Her vision of Yetunde faded as she crashed, writhing on the floor. She could feel every beat of her heart pulse through every cell of her body. The very cells that felt like they were on fire. Each pulse- irregular as it was- felt like it was oil to her scorching cells. She was in hell. There was no other explanation for this.

The pace between each pulse of her heart grew. Each pulse was a painful jerk of her heart, protesting the hold of her ribs. Where was she? How did she get here? Why did she feel like this?

"Maami," she called for her mother, hoping that the slim dark woman would come running to her. Oxygen escaped her, playing hide and seek with her airways. She grasped, clutching, trying to reach for air, as though she could hold it. Maybe it would stop the pain. "Maami."

Her heart raced faster, matching then surpassing the rhythm of the dance competition in her head. She was certain that it would be free of her chest any moment. She felt hot all over. The heat was inside her body. Under her skin. Inside her bones.

She felt her cheeks twitching and she wrapped her hands around herself crying. Where was her mother? why was she here alone. "Hot.. Hot... Jesus help me.. it's so hot..  Yetunde...?"

"Yes?"

"I feel.. I'm burning. Why am I burning? Maami?"

Romola would have kept speaking if her jaws was not forcing itself to clamp shut. Her words came out muffled and like before, when the pacing of her pulse slowed so much that she feared her heart had stopped beating, her vision cleared. All she saw was Yetunde -all four of them- seating on the couch, smirking.

"You'll be fine," Yetunde said. "Soon, you'll be in a world of Ecstasy."

Romola gave up all will power as her vision blurred again. Her body couldn't seem to be constant. One moment she was laughing, then she was crying. Her heart raced and then crawled. She laughed and then she cried. She saw and then she didn't. While all this happened, one thought remained conscious in her unbalanced mind. she was -without doubt- in hell.