A Day In The Life - {Watty Awards 2015}

Chapter 17: Sea of Time (Jeb)

“Jeb. Jeb.” The distant voice called, drawing nearer and louder. Soon, it was yelling. It yanked me out of my dream, thrusting me into the hardly-better realm of reality.

“Alice?” I asked, recognizing the blonde hair and innocent face of my companion. “What? What’s going on?” I looked around, “Why are you sitting on me?”

“Well, you were asleep, then you just sort of started screaming and thrashing. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Oh,” I responded as she sat next to me, “thank you.” She grabbed for her ribs. “I didn’t get you, did I?”

“It’s nothing. You should see yourself.” The patch of her shirt where she had set her hand turned red. Blood dripped between her fingers and small drops fell to the ground and mingled with the dirt. Her previously porcelain hands were stained a deep orangish red that I had come to loathe.

“Alice,” I said, my voice slightly more commanding now, “are you okay? You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. It should stop in a minute. I think you just scratched me.” She said, her voice entirely calm.

“Can I at least see it? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah, sure.” She lifted her shirt to reveal what was actually a fairly minor series of lacerations, all of which would certainly heal, but leave minor scarring. Even knowing this, I felt terrible. I had marred the only person I knew was on my side.

“Alice?”

“Yeah, Jeb?” She responded.

“I’m really–” Footfalls pierced the air. He was coming. Alice shrunk back into her corner, and I slinked as far as I could to the end of my chain. A few seconds later, the door swung open, a sea of fresh air replacing the stale air and causing the one light bulb in the room to swing, alternating between lighting up Alice, myself, and our masked captor. He slid a single tray of food into the room with one water bottle.

We both dove for it instinctively. She handed me the water bottle and I threw it back instantly, thankful that whoever this guy was, he hadn’t intended to let me die of dehydration. As I set the water bottle down, I tasted salt. I felt around my mouth to see if I was bleeding and, deciding that I wasn’t, I realized something which made my blood run cold. Instantly, my entire abdomen lit up with pain, burning with an intensity far greater than any food poisoning I had ever experienced (which, due to my dad’s cooking, was astounding, considering that the man could burn water and undercook bacon.)

I had felt this before, but only once. When I was five, I had tasted ice melt, thinking that it was salt. I had just chugged a bottle of de-icer. Shit.

Soon enough, my gag reflex kicked in and the all-too-familiar taste of vomit filled my throat, mouth and nose. As I wiped my running nose after purging the contents of my stomach, I tasted blood. Excellent. Now, on top of everything else, I’d have stomach ulcers.

“Are you okay?” Alice looked over at me, concerned.

I wiped my mouth and coughed, “Don’t drink the Kool-Aid.”

She laughed weakly, “What is it?”

“De-icer.”

“Oh, God. Are you okay? I ate that stuff once when I was little. It didn’t end well.”

“So did I, and I don’t think I’m dying, if that’s what you mean. I taste blood, but that’s what happens.” I tried to sit up, but felt the desire to vomit again. I returned to my original position and the nausea died down.