Distract my hunger (4 page)

The next thing I started to experience (or perhaps it was the first I just don’t remember) was the hunger . . . This was extremely odd because I craved for something and I just didn’t know what it was! At the beginning I was so confused: I could have craved for food, sex, love, loneliness, companionship, or anything else; I wanted something so bad I felt like an addict but I didn’t know my drug. Then, the dreams began . . .

Someone was calling for me, or something, or maybe it was just a trapped part of my self; and it was enticing and so scary at the same time. Just like doing your heart’s desire when you know it is completely wrong. I dreamt of shadows and twililight, the colours blinding my senses and holding my heartbeat to a cloud of ruby. And
that
is the colour that started to be predominant in my dreams, deep, luscious, beautiful red.

My dreams became scarlet; deep burgundy even at times. Red roses covered my eyelids, and crimson lilies appeared in every corner of my mind’s eye.

I remember quite vividly one of the first dreams that called my attention:

I was alone and everything smelled like mid-summer afternoon. My footsteps were soft but steady, and I was walking; walking up the cobble-stones of a garden. It was a gorgeous yet half neglected English-style garden with wisteria and jasmine ornamenting two tall art deco columns by the main door. I was walking towards the main door and looked down. My pathway was adorned with cherry-coloured apple blossoms. I looked up and all flowers were turning red, even the jasmine blooms were a deep crimson now. I got to the immense mahogany double door and it opened just as I touched it, I crept into the house and right in front of me was a long wooden table with a large vase full of flowers. I couldn’t quite tell what kind they were so I walked towards them; they were huge, perfect, blood-red irises. As beautiful as nothing I’d ever seen before. I stretched my hand and touched one petal; it became soft and liquid under my touch and stained my fingers. The petals melted and became warm and thick as they transformed into a paint-like substance that made my fingertips look very red. It looked so real and thick, like something that throbbed in my mind’s eye. I let my fingers slide on each other and realized it looked . . . Just like blood.

That’s when I woke up panting, I will never forget that dream, and I’m still looking for that house.

Other things also started changing in me, many of my senses started to be hipper sensitive perhaps because of my headaches and my lack of sleep (real, normal sleep I mean, not the dream infested, super active sleep I got), my hearing was enhanced, as well as my touch and my sense of smell to levels I thought were sometimes utterly unbearable. Just imagine the torture of public transport in summer!

For moments I thought I was going insane! I couldn’t understand what was going on, and every time I thought that this was it and that nothing else was going to add to my weird symptoms, a new one appeared. Every time I started accepting things, saying “Ok girl, shit happens and nothing can get any worse”, something else started to change. Just as if plain adolescence wasn’t difficult enough!

You think that going through teenage crushes, broken friendships, body changes and awful teachers is bad? Well imagine adding to all that my problems! If you picture that, you would still have no idea . . .

Then things . . . just got worse.
The
pain
appeared.

A deep, revolting and excruciating pain started to develop within my abdomen. It was much sharper than a stomach-ache, and so much more unexpected than any pain that I had ever felt before in my short life. When the pain came, I imagined 20 knives stabbing my bowels and huge torches burning me within. I was rendered helpless at its merciless grasp. Out of breath and motionless I could not speak, I could not shout and after a while I couldn’t even hear.

As you can probably imagine, I was taken to the finest doctors, but nobody could guess what ailed me. They said it was probably something psychosomatic buy they always had to run more tests. They x-rayed, CAT-scanned and examined me. They poked me with needles and filled me with fluids; they even tore pieces out of me to always run more tests. After a while I felt worse than a lab-rat and they could only conclude that I had some acute photo sensibility and a mild anaemia. Not exactly something that would match the horrible state I was actually in. Imagine living your worst nightmare and having
that
as the amazing diagnostic of highly renowned specialists. When they told me I only wanted to cry.

Now, can you guess what I was prescribed besides avoiding extreme sun exposure? My sole prescription was an addition of “liver” in my diet, and to eat it as raw as possible. Yes, liver. Animal liver, sticky, stinky, foul looking liver. Not exactly what you would say delicious in my language (for the record, before this moment I was a just-about-to-become-a-vegetarian-and-very-proud-of-it) so you can imagine just how “thrilled” I was. Yummy liver-shake was the new breakfast for me.

For a while, some of my symptoms seemed to decrease, though they never disappeared completely. They were shushed just to return as acute as ever after some days.

My friends where scared to death with my condition, though they never really had the whole picture (I never told anyone about the dreams, the last thing I needed was to have them believe I was also bonkers).

Alexia, my best friend was so upset that her huge, black-rimmed, hazel, almond-shaped eyes started to fog under a brim of tears every time she saw me.

“Don’t worry cutie, you know you’ll keep my wardrobe if I die” I replied jokefully every time this happened, and it worked for she smiled and hugged me right after; never forgetting to tell me that she only needed to have her best friend healthy to be happy.

Alexia was a bit of a drama queen on a daily basis, so having her “girl” sick and missing all the summer fun was a huge drama on its own. If to that we add the fact that everyone thought I had some kind of not-yet-discovered cancer or worse, my situation was a disastrous for her.

Even in the moments her eyes were all dramatic and filled with tears, she looked gorgeous. She was one of those girls that never left her home without the mild enhancements of makeup; and being as fond of drama as she was she always made sure to keep some tissues handy and wear waterproof mascara. Her tiny slim body always reminded me of a cheerful pixie: always energetic and completely fragile looking.

I can’t say that I’m very tall, but when I stood beside Alexia, her wispy shortish-brown hair barely got to my chin. Her hair was one of her cutest aspects; she had the silkiest brunette hair. It was cut in soft layers around her oval face, and since her hair was so weightless and mildly wavy it was always looking like a halo around her.

A tinny nose crowned her pixie looks. She had a small, slightly upturned nose that was to die for! Once, she told me that they used to make fun of her as a kid for it, but as soon as she grew up it made her look sweet and sexy.

Before that summer I was quite lucky with boys; I was invited to parties and I knew of one or two guys who had a crush on me. That was really good talk with Alexia on Friday nights! Sometimes she tried to convince me to go out with a couple of them, but underneath all the chatter and parties, I was not interested.

There had been only one guy I liked, but he was not exactly that approachable.

I saw him for the first time on my first week at school; my heart seemed to start doing somersaults on the very spot. Though I got to know him sometime after I first saw him, he never seemed available for dating. He never seemed to have a crush on me unlike the others I talked about with Alexia. Never, until some day I got lucky.

My luck was such, that some months before this whole nightmare began I started dating this amazing guy.

He was about a year or so older than me, and adding that to the fact that he seemed so uninterested the whole thing seemed even less probable to begin with. I completely swooned over him anyway, and against all odds . . . it happened!

When this crazy and bothersome “sickness” episode of my life happened I had already gone out with him for nearly two months. Things were going nice, slow and steady though no strange “boyfriend/girlfriend” titles were attached. Then, my “illness” just seemed to make things go faster.

As I told you before we had friends in common, we went to the same parties and even went on vacation to the same place (yes, sweet summers in
Punta
del
Este
were shared every year). If I hadn’t liked him from the moment I first set my eyes on him this would have been a drag, he was everywhere!

He belonged to the “in” crowd; he had the looks and a dazzling smile. His smile was the kind that just makes any girl melt and any guy want to be his pal. Perfect layers of white teeth sparkled as soon as he grinned. You felt you could trust that smile and just died to share it. He was one of those people that seemed to bring sunlight in the room as soon as they walk in. He was perfect but never cocky about it.

I believe most if not all of my girlfriends had a secret crush on him even though he was not the most sociable of the pack. He was somewhat of a loner; we all believed he was just shy. It was a very attractive combination, gorgeous yet mysterious, completely addictive to be around!

Our first date was on Halloween before that fatidic summer. Maria, one of our classmates was throwing a massive Halloween bash that year and we were all thrilled to go. By Thursday before the party night I still didn’t have my costume, and worst of all, I couldn’t even decide what I wanted to go dressed up as.

I was generally very good in choosing my costumes; I loved any opportunity I had to be creative to the extreme with my apparel. Unfortunately that year, I was completely uninspired. I spent the entire week trying to decide what to go dressed as, but nothing really convinced me. It was then he, my loner-boy, who solved the puzzle for me.

He saw me by my locker that afternoon and just casually said: “You know, I think we should go as Mr. and Mrs. Addams, and since we should match our costumes I should also pick you up. Say, at 10 pm?” And that was it.

“OK” I said and by the end of that day I had a costume, a date and a ride. We just continued dating ever since.

That first party was loads of fun! Our costumes matched perfectly and we danced all night. I still treasure my memories of that day. That’s a whole story I could spend ages on, but don’t let me distract myself from my other story, let me go back to my illness.

After I got sick I thought he would disappear. What else would a teenage boy in midsummer do? I was a total and complete mess; I was moody, sick and sad . . . I was no fun at all. My eyes looked bruised and my raven-hair looked dull and lifeless. I looked like something that had just escaped from a casket and was rotting every day a tiny bit more.

I expected him to dump me, but he just never ceased to surprise me! Instead of that, he would go every day to my place to see how I was doing. He spent long hours just telling jokes and trying to make me happy. To be brutally honest: just by looking at him I was happy already! My heart jumped every time I glimpsed at him. Of course, little did he know about it! No girl would ever tell a boy something like that of course.

He was much more handsome than what he would acknowledge I’m sure. His ash-blond, sun-kissed wavy hair curled just over his neck-line giving him a slightly messy look that was just to die for. No matter how much he combed his hair it constantly displayed a personality of its own.

You can picture it like something you’d be completely tempted to run your fingers through. The few occasions when I caressed his silky mane were heavenly. Any girl would be so envious of my guy’s shiny locks! I must admit
I
was!

When he laughed small wrinkles appeared in the corners of his glowing, golden-brown, green-flecked eyes, giving them a cat-like appearance, so mysterious yet gentle and caring at the same time. A set of perfectly curved eyebrows highlighted his feline eyes enhancing his almost perfect features. It was the perfect combo to attract female fans everywhere.

I could never guess his extraordinary interest in me, or why he chose at times to be there, looking after me, day after day instead of surfing or flirting at the beach like the rest of our friends. I just assumed his crush on me was a big deal, and I must admit, the company was not bad, not bad at all.

One night, near the end of January, he was making me company when
the
pain
started again. It was worse than ever before; I had to bend in order to try and breathe: its magnitude was such that air seemed to escape my grasp. I felt as if something gnawed at my stomach and tried to find its way all the way back to my spine.

My ears felt some kind of humming sound and my whole body was trembling with almost ice-cold sweat. I felt the heavy South-American January breeze cold on my skin. I might have been with a very high fever, or in such pain that my senses were failing me. “This time,” I thought “I am really going to die, and
He
is here to see me.”

My eyes felt bloodshot and tired, I imagined myself looking as a zombie while I curled on my bed and waited for the worst to happen.

Now, here comes the odd part of that day. The odd thing is not that I thought I was dying, it’s exactly what happened then . . . When that happened, he started to rub my back very calmly and told me (without uttering one word) that it was all going to be over soon, “
tonight
”.