The Awakening (7 page)

“Come on Gabriella, look at you...look at me!”

“Alexander, this isn’t a joke, I promise. I would never do that to you.”

Without another word, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close. As she held me there, my head buried in the crook of her neck the last of the barriers crumbled and the tears came. I cried until there was nothing left. Then I opened my eyes and let Gabriella's blurry face swim back into focus. With surprise I saw that her eyes were damp with tears too. She blinked them away and took my hands in hers once more, giving them a gentle squeeze. Her skin was soft and there were no shocks, just a glowing feeling, which seemed to radiate through me. Somehow I didn’t feel ashamed that I’d just cried in front of her. All I felt was lighter, like a weight had been lifted off my chest.

“Feel better?” she asked.

“Yeah I do.” Scratching the back of my neck I added, “Sorry about dumping that on you.”

Gabriella shook her head. “You don't have to apologise to me. Never be ashamed of who you are or how you feel. Maybe you aren't the problem, maybe it's everyone else.”

Her look intensified, as if she were dealing with something internal. She crossed her arms over her chest and began to pace up and down. “Alexander, when I first saw you, I sensed something...different. I wanted to know you. That’s why I asked you to show me around.” Gabriella stopped pacing and stared at me. Alexander, I believe - no,” she tapped a hand against her chest, “I
know
that you have more courage and kindness within you than those...” she waved the hand in the air, “
testa di merdas
could ever dream of having! If they can’t see what a sweet, kind, human being you are then it’s their loss. But I can and
that’s
why we’re friends.” Something seemed to flash inside her eyes. “I’m here now and god help anyone who tries to hurt you.”

Her face relaxed into a warm smile. “Things are going to get better, I promise” she said, “You just need to have more faith in yourself. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Good.”

She moved back over to the swing, picking up her food. I followed and sat back down. After popping a few chips in her mouth, Gabriella held the carton towards me.

The comment gave my stomach a little squeeze. “Okay, well you don’t have to call me Alexander either. To be honest I prefer Alex.”

That evening, I was hot topic at the dinner table. Mikey - reverting to irritating twerp mode - had told Mum and John all about seeing me and Gabriella together.

“She is super-hot. I mean like on another level. Everyone at school is talking about her!” he enthused, animating his words with over the top hand gestures. John raised his eyebrows as he swirled spaghetti around his fork.

John nodded as if an internal question had been answered. But he surprised me by adding, “Well, I think you should go for it. You never know, it could work out.”

At that moment I had to resist the urge to dive across the table and beat Mikey to a pulp.
Calm down, he’s just being an idiot
I soothed myself. Slowly, my anger ebbed away. The problem wasn’t really him. It was more...me. My emotions had been up and down all day. After my heart to heart with Gabriella, I’d been in a euphoric state for hours. Then like a switch had been flipped, I was so angry I’d almost punched a first year in the face for bumping into me.

Mum smiled, “Well I agree with John. If you like her, then ask her out on a date.”

Desperate to get the attention away from me, I agreed that if the situation arose I would ask her out. I knew I’d never have the confidence to actually do it, but it got them off of my back.

*

After dinner I started to feel ill.

To my family’s surprise, I’d accepted an offer to watch a film. It was a pretty good one about a kid whose next door neighbour is a Vampire.

The movie was about an hour in when I started to sweat. Thick beads crawled into my eyes and stung them. I blinked, trying to focus on the film, but I was getting too hot. I started to fidget on the sofa, trying to find a comfortable position. A stuffy sickness began to rise in my stomach. My glands filled with spit.

“Can you open a window?” I asked John, whose chair was closest to the outside wall.

He looked at me like I was mad. “Are you kidding? It’s bloody freezing in this house as it is!” He made a tutting noise and turned back to the screen.

Mum gave me a concerned glance. “Are you feeling okay honey?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m just going to grab a drink.”

My legs could barely support my weight as I stood up. I stumbled my way to the kitchen, gripping the walls to keep myself upright. I grabbed a glass off the draining board and filled it with water. Finished the whole lot in three gulps and repeated the process.

Then I threw up.

I stood over the sink, heaving until there was nothing left. With shaking fingers, I clawed for the kitchen roll and used it to wipe my mouth.
Something I ate?
But even thinking was hard. It felt like my brain was shutting down.

Tiredness seized my body. Every joint became lead, every muscle, a bag of stones. My vision wavered as my eyelids drew together. I knew I should feel scared, but I couldn’t raise the energy to feel anything. I dragged my body into the hallway and slumped to my knees, crawling up the stairs.

“Are you okay Alex?” called Mum from the living room.

“Bed,” was all I could muster, as I heaved my way on all fours up the steps.

I was drenched in sweat. My clothes looked like they’d been retrieved from a swimming pool. The carpet chafed against my wet skin, leaving fierce red marks on my arms and stomach as I dragged myself upwards. I reached my room in what seemed like hours. I barged my shoulder against the door. It swung open, knocking against the wall with a low thud.

I pulled myself onto the bed without even stopping to remove my sodden clothes. A wave of sickness rushed through my stomach. I leaned over the far side and vomited into the bin.

Whimpering, I rolled onto my back. The ceiling spun around like a car wheel. A small pitiful moan escaped my lips and with no strength left, my body sank into the mattress and my eyelids closed.

I was still in my room but I could feel that I wasn't alone. People were moving about in the shadows, their voices barely a whisper.

The bed shifted as someone leaned over me. I could feel them near my skin, could hear their low steady breathing. I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn't respond. Panic exploded in my stomach. I wanted to scream for help, but my mouth wouldn't work. It felt like it had been glued shut. Terror replaced the panic. Inside I was writhing around like a wounded animal, screaming and fighting, but on the outside I would have appeared as still as the dead. More closed in around me, their breath warm on my face. I could smell something familiar, but couldn't place it. They spoke in small hushed bursts.

“
It’s definitely happening.”

“
We should take him now.”

“
I'll carry him.”

Someone scooped me up from under the covers as if I were a baby and flopped me over their shoulder. I strained with all my strength to get some part of me to respond - to fight off my kidnappers and escape - but nothing happened. I was a rag doll.

I felt the slight rise and fall as my kidnapper moved across the bedroom. My stomach lurched as the ground dropped away.

A second later a jarring sensation shook my body and I heard a loud crunch like a hammer on gravel. I realised with pure shock that whoever was carrying me had jumped out of my bedroom window. If I could have screamed I would have. No human could do that without serious damage to us both.

There were a few more heavy thumps onto the gravel as the others followed. Then the rhythmic walking started again - the steady rise and fall.

With everything I had, I strained once more against my paralyzed muscles. I felt the fingers on my left hand flicker. A wave of hope replaced the fear.

“
Wait!” I heard one of them hiss. My heart spasmed. We shuddered to a stop and warm set of fingers felt for something in my neck.

“
God, he isn't out properly! Quick, give it to me!”

There was a rustling sound followed by a sharp sting on the back of my hand. A cool sensation washed all the way up my arm. The last thing I remembered was the sharp taste of metal in the back of my mouth, before the darkness rushed in and took me.

5

M
y fingers stretched out, reaching for the pillow, but I couldn't find it. Instead I felt something soft and damp. I tried to lift my head up, but it was filled with lead. It pounded relentlessly.

Then the rest of me began to follow suit, starting with a low ache and escalating into an intense throbbing. I tried to open my eyes, but they were slow and unresponsive.

Using all of my strength I used my jelly arms to drag my aching body upright. After three tries, I was able to stand up onto spaghetti legs.

Only the briefest glance made it clear that I’d woken up in Providence Park.

My head thrummed and I clasped at it, rubbing furiously in a desperate attempt to blot out the pain. Eventually it subsided enough for me to focus.

The sky was a blend of orange and grey. The rising sun locked in battle with the winter clouds. An icy breeze traced the contours of my skin. The park was empty apart from a pair of joggers on the far side, dressed in matching blue tracksuits.

How the hell did I get here?

I tried to remember what happened the night before, but my brain wouldn't play ball. It only made my headache worse. I stopped trying to think too much. Instead I concluded I must have sleepwalked. It was the only possible explanation for my makeshift bed. Looking down at my trembling body, the theory faltered.

Gritting my teeth, I stood up again. I wobbled like a drunk on my bare feet, taking baby steps so that I could remain upright. The aching worsened, aggravated by my stubborn movements.

I felt broken. Every part of me smashed beyond repair. But I carried on, step by step, until after an eternity, I’d made it through the gated exit and onto the pavement which followed the main road through town. I noticed a phone box across the road. It stood proud, offering it's salvation to those who could reach its graffitied glass doors.

I dug for change in the jogging bottoms. No luck.
Reverse the charges
, managed to squeeze through the dagger stabs in my brain. My head lolled from side to side as I vaguely checked for traffic. Meanwhile the throbbing in my body grew into a roaring crescendo of agony. With each boom in my temples, bright flashes of yellow burst into my eyesight. It felt like I could pass out at any moment. So focusing my squinting eyes on the telephone box, I stumbled into the road, arms outstretched like a toddler reaching for its mother.

Straight into the path of a speeding car.

I heard the sound of tyres locking, mixed with a bloodcurdling scream which sliced through my ears like a blade. My head turned in time to see a silver hatchback trying to veer around me just a little too late. Its back end skidded out and swung at me like a sledgehammer. There was no time to move. I closed my eyes and waited for the impact.

The morning calm was pierced by the inhuman smash and screech of twisting metal, followed by the tinkle of thousands of cubes of glass pattering onto the road like hailstones. Then the angry hiss of a dying engine. The kind of sounds you only hear when something very bad has just happened. All I could feel was something cold wrapped around my lower body.

Am I dead?
I wondered, eyes still squeezed shut. If I was, this wasn’t how I had expected it to be. There were no snapshots of my life, no white light to enter into.

My skin goose bumped from the frosty embrace of the unknown object. Whatever it was, it was holding on for dear life. I inched my eyelids apart. What I saw defied all logic.

The car was a steaming wreck, wrapped around my body.

At the impact point just behind the driver's door, it had caved around me, into a rough V shape. Steam poured in dark clouds from the exposed engine. The rear wheels had buckled and folded in on themselves, causing the car to sink down at the back. All the windows were smashed from the force of the impact.

It was the sort of result you would expect from a head on collision with a solid wall, not a seventeen year old kid. I looked down at my body, fearing the worst.