The Shamrock Killer

Chapter Six: Chillier Than Yesterday

The next morning I woke up feeling drained and empty. My head swam in a river of pain and my heart raced to a beat that couldn't be healthy.

My arms were sore as if something had ripped them from my body and then duck taped them back on. My hair was matted at the top of my head in a thousand dark knots and my eyes were sealed shut with crusty tears. I felt horrible and I probably looked it too.

Prying an eye opened, the sight of my alarm clock reading 7:15 greeted me. "Crap!" I shouted at my ceiling as I stumbled out of bed and staggered into my bathroom. I had only 15 minutes to shower, get dressed, and eat breakfast. I was so officially screwed. And it was a Monday.

I stumbled into my bathroom and quickly stripped from my pajamas at the speed of a madwoman. I turned to get in my shower but a red bruise on my body right where my heart was caught my eye in the mirror.

I probed it slightly, the dark red mark no bigger than a quarter, flinching when I felt a tender pain that elicited a hiss out of my mouth. Despite the pain, I couldn't help but think, parseltongue, much? That's not normal, I thought to myself as I turned once more to my shower. But everything had changed it seemed and I didn't know what normal was anymore.

--

"So then Mr. Robert was like 'Detention!' and I was like 'See you there!'," Declan said through clenched teeth as he ate his burrito, recalling a memory from his senior year in high school. Rory laughed along with him and despite my headache and worsening mood I couldn't resist an sarcastic eye roll.

I mean, the day was only halfway over so they might as well cut me some slack. I wish all my teachers would, I thought sarcastically to myself.

"Maureen?" I was pulled back into the present with the image of a raven engraved in my mind for some reason. It was only a dream, I told myself, a dream and nothing more. Rory quirked an eyebrow at my lack-luster enthusiasm.

"Yeah, what's up?" I smiled brightly hoping they would see past my faded appearance and dark circles.

Declan and Rory looked at each other before looking back at me coming to the same conclusion through silent communication. "Are you ok?" Rory asked while rubbing circles on my back. Normally I would find the gesture soothing, but right now it only irritated me. What was wrong with me? Rory was my boyfriend, this should be ok.

"We've said your name three times, Maur," Declan sighed and put a hand on his heart as he faked rejection. My sore heart throbbed in response and I clenched back a biting retort. 

Instead, I smiled, a fake smile, at Declan's play-acting. "You know, there's Drama class. You should join, you'd be great," I reassured Declan with a condescending pat on the arm.

Declan only rolled his eyes and gestured to himself, particularly the flannel he wore over his black shirt. "I don't know what you mean lass," he spoke in an Irish brogue, "I love the color green but I don't have a green thumb." I widened my eyes at the insinuation and bumped shoulders with Rory before turning back to Declan and laughing, really laughing this time.

"That's for gardening, you idiot," I leaned my head back and sighed. "I am so disappointed in you."

"Ok, who's acting now?" Declan said with a pointed glance as he continued stuffing his face with his burrito.

"Who said I was acting?" I smirked as Declan glared at me. Declan 3, Maureen 5, and it wasn't even Halloween yet.

I finished my sandwich and took a swig of my water before slumping against Rory's shoulder and closing my eyes. I was tired beyond belief and yet I couldn't remember anything about last's night's dream, other than I had a dream. Maybe I didn't have a dream. Maybe I was going crazy. What was reality versus not reality? Were my fingers actually my fingers? Conclusion: I was in the middle of an existential crisis.