Finding Eden (9 page)

My thoughts progress into
the more absurd the longer I walk. Soon my imagination has spiraled
so far out of control that I find myself almost dancing in real life
as my other self in my mind dances at a royal ball. The dancing gets
too far out of my control though and I dance into the street.

A car horn wails and I'm
brought back to reality. I jump back onto the sidewalk as the car
passes, hearing the driver call me an idiot through the open window.

“
Holy crap,”
I mutter under my breath, my heart pounding and adrenaline running
through my veins.

I'm so close to home that
I decide to run the rest of the way, something I normally can't do.
But I figure since the whole world has gone insane I'm allowed to do
something a little crazy. Since my heart almost gave out when I was a
baby, I've had to take medication every single morning and I haven't
been allowed to do anything that might make my heart work overtime.

I've never really ran
anywhere, but I make myself do the unpracticed movement. I move
faster and faster, my heart thumping in my chest. Soon I feel myself
flying along and I can't believe I was never allowed to do this. But
then my house comes into view, along with my car.

My feet coast to a stop
and I'm not out of breath. At all. My heart is beating faster, but
it's not pumping out some strange disjointed rhythm it usually does
when something startles me. How the hell is this possible? I'm out of
breath from sheer surprise. Walking up the driveway, I walk into the
house and grab some food before I head to my room. My phone vibrates
in my pocket. It's Evaughn.

I snap the phone open,
“Hello.”

“
Oh my god,”
she sounds relieved, “are you okay?”

“
Yeah, I'm fine.
Why?”

“
You haven't been
feeling weird or anything?”

“
No, Evaughn, I
haven't.” I say, “Again, why are you asking?”

“
Okay, good,”
I hear static, “wait... how did you get home?”

“
I walked.”

“
You walked all the
way home?” She almost sounds like a mom.

“
Yeah,” I
say, “Evaughn, why are you calling?”

“
Oh,” she
says, “I guess you haven't heard. You remember the free drink
stand?”

“
Yeah,” the
word comes out quickly, “what about it?”

“
Well, turns out
some kid decided to pull a prank and slipped something into the mix.
The cops were called when everyone began to freak out,” she
says in a rushed voice, “that's why Brock was acting the way he
was. He had grabbed one of the drinks. He is so embarrassed. So am I.
He would call... but he's not sure if you'd talk to him.”

“
It was drugs?”
I ask into the phone.

“
Yeah.”

“
Oh thank heavens,”
I plop down on the couch, “I thought I was going insane!”

“
How do you think
we feel?”

“
Yeah,” I
say, “I bet. But at least now I know that Brock likes me.”

“
Yeah,” she
sounds sad.

“
But don't worry.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Well, you like
him, don't you?”

“
No,” she
says too quickly.

“
Yeah you do,”
I tease, “from your quick denial I can totally tell you do.”

There's a long pause on
the other end of the phone and I look at the screen to make sure we
didn't get disconnected.

“
Am I really that
transparent?” She asks in a whisper. I feel like smacking
myself with the phone.

“
No, you're not,”
I say, “how about you come over and we'll talk this all over. I
can order a couple pizzas and we can pork out on non-carnival food
while we talk. Okay?”

“
Alright,”
she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice, “I will be
over as soon as possible.”

An hour later Evaughn and
I are sitting on my bed polishing off the second pizza.

“
So he knows that
you don't like him?”

“
I'm fairly certain
that my freak out earlier let him know exactly how I feel about him.”

We sit in silence for a
while and I can tell Evaughn is thinking about Brock, her colors
swirling all pink, red and yellow.

“
You know,”
she says out of the blue, “you and Sahariel need to get back
together.”

“
What?”

“
I know you like
him, and you know he was looking for you earlier right as things
started going weird.”

“
He was?”

“
Yeah,” she
says, “but when I was about to answer him, he stopped listening
and ran off like he saw you or something.”

“
Weird.”

“
Yeah, even weirder
because you were nowhere to be seen.” Then she says, “Did
you even see him there?”

“
Yeah, I did
actually,” I admit, “he's the one who saved me from the
drug induced mania.”

“
Really?”

“
Yep.”

“
Knight in shining
armor, huh?”

“
Something like
that,” I mumble.

“
You like him,
don't you?” She asks.

“
Yeah, I do.”

“
Then why are you
sitting here talking to me about Brock when you should be with
Sahariel?”

“
I'm not sure if
he'd want to see me.”

“
Why's that?”

“
Because I told him
to go away?”

“
You think that's
going to keep him away?” She scoffs at me, “He's been
lurking around the school behind you all super stalker like.”

“
Really? Then how
come I never seen him?”

“
Because you're
extremely unobservant lately?” Evaughn is sarcastic.

“
Oh,” I mouth
the word but no sound comes out.

“
You're hopeless,
you know that?” She says.

“
I try not to be,”
I say.

“
Well, you are.”
She looks at her watch, “Anyway, I should get going. I will see
you Monday, alright?”

“
Okay,” I
say.

I walk Evaughn out and
wave goodbye as she drives down the street. I look up at the clear
night sky and take a deep breath as the salt of the fields washes
away. Hopefully everything works itself out.

Over the weekend the
catastrophe at the carnival is on every newscast. After the third
time of seeing the same footage I decided to boycott television.

On Monday morning my
alarm goes off and I don't want to get up. I'm not tired. I'm nervous
about seeing Sahariel. My mind is a buzz with what may or may not
happen, and my morning rituals go by without notice. The car drive,
the parking lot, class; a blur. Up until the point when Brock walks
up to my desk in Literature.

“
Hi,” he
says.

I look up from my doodles
and see him fidget under my gaze.

“
Hey,” I say.

“
I just wanted to
apologize-”

“
Stop, don't worry
about it.”

“
But-”

“
Seriously,”
I say, “we're both pretty embarrassed. I won't hold it against
you if you don't hold it against me.” I smile at him and after
a few moments he smiles back.

“
Deal.” He
says.

He sits down next to me
right as our teacher walks in with a television on wheels, gray and
black swirling lazily around him.

“
He looks like
crap,” Brock says.

I mumble an agreement and
watch as our teacher walks over and switches the lights off, my eyes
following him. My eyes pass over the door, and a flash of what looks
like might have been a person standing there comes and goes.

I get up from my seat and
walk over to my teacher, mumbling something to him about needing to
use the bathroom, or at least that's what I think I said. I honestly
can't remember what I said, my mind is too focused on trying to
figure out who, or what, was at the door.

I close the door behind
myself, making sure the click is as quiet as possible. I look right
down the hallway.

No one.

I look left. My eyes
catch something moving around the corner and I go to investigate. I
walk around the corner but again, no one is there. But I hear
footsteps.

And they're close.

I listen closely to try
and figure out which direction they're coming from, but I can't tell.
I can hear whispers though. All around me.

I can't tell if it's one
voice echoing or if it's many, but shudders run down my body, goose
bumps raise on my arms and I feel the static in the air.

The air feels like it's
full of... something. It feels thick, like I'm in a tropical
environment and the humidity is through the roof; like I'm breathing
water.

I try to take a deep
breath but I can't. I feel like I'm going to hyperventilate.

I take another breath.

It's useless. Each breath
gives me less and less oxygen. But there isn't anything wrong with
the air. There's no odd smell; nothing.

Carbon monoxide
poisoning? Where would it be coming from, and why would I hear those
whispers?

My vision blurs and I
find myself feeling dizzy. I put my hand against the wall and a hand
against my heart. I try to steady myself but find myself sinking
slowly to the ground.

“
Maybe I'll just
lean my head against the wall for a bit,” I whisper.

I tilt my head back and
close my head. My head is throbbing, and leaning back and closing my
eyes seems to make it ease a bit, as if the less resistance I put up,
the less pain I feel.

Finally able to take a
deep breath, I smile and try to get up, but my arms won't respond.

My eyes won't open. I'm
stuck in the dark in my own body.

What's going on? Why
can't I move? My brain won't tell my body to move.

I can't speak. Am I going
to die?

“
Eden?”

I hear my name from
someone I thought didn't want to see me.

“
Eden.”

The voice is worried now.

“
Shit,” he
says.

I feel myself being
picked up, completely limp.

“
I'm going to kill
them,” he says.

I'm moving in his arms,
and I'm able to register the change in temperature as he takes me
outside into fresh air.

“
Eden,” his
voice is close to my ear.

A hand cradles my face; a
finger runs across my cheek. I hear a whisper rush from his lips and
I feel like I'm being covered in the words he's saying.

Seconds tick by and I can
register my body ready to respond to me one part at a time. I'm able
to open my eyes, and although the words Sahariel has spoken are still
swimming through my head, I can't remember them nor could I speak
them out loud.

“
There you are,”
he says to me as my eyes open.

“
Holy crap,”
I say, “are you okay?”

I look at his face, which
looks worse than it did back when I was having my nightmares. His
eyes look sunken in, his skin pale and a light sheen covers his brow.

“
I am not my main
concern,” he says.

“
Well it should
be.”

“
It's not,”
he says.

“
Why?”

“
Because, Eden,”
he says, “I'm not the one who almost died just now.”

He's frustrated, but
worried.