Feathermore (11 page)

Something moved on the corner of my eye, and my whole body tensed, wishing it was him.

“
Jade?” Claire’s soft voice called after me. I peered down on the floor, and there she was. Her hair was the embodiment of messy, the perfectly styled bob gone and, instead, strands of hair shooting up like dry tuft grass in every direction.

I snickered, and in response she threw her pillow at me. “What!” I asked. “What did I do?”

“
You’re mean, that’s what.” She grabbed a hairbrush from her bag and began combing it. Even looking as if she had just been electrocuted, she was still adorable. She looked at me again. “It’s nice to see you awake.”

Her words struck me as a little odd. “How . . . how long have I been sleeping?”

Claire lay down beside me on the bed. “Four days.”

So many questions were running wild in my head, yet nothing would come out. How was this possible?

“
What happened at the cemetery?” Her voice was soft. “I thought we had lost you for a moment.” I was instantly taken back to the cemetery . . . the two caskets being lowered onto the same grave.

I closed my eyes and said in all sincerity, “I don’t deserve to be alive.”

“
What did you just say?” Claire shot up on the bed.

“
Can we just let it go?” I said. I turned onto my side, my back to her.

“
I don’t think so.”

“
It doesn’t matter now. If I had died along with Mom and Dad, people would have soon forgotten about me and my family.” I didn’t want to talk about it. It was painful, and it hadn’t happened as I wished. Still, it felt good to let all my bottled emotions out into the open.

“
You think
we
would have forgotten you just like that?” She was genuinely shocked. “You think Avan would
ever
forget you?” Hearing his name made me feel guilty. I hadn’t thought about him, and when I had been with Blake . . .

“
I—I’m sorry,” I said. “You have to understand, everything I had, the ones who gave me the life I have, were ripped away from me. And, to make it worse, in a very brutal way. Claire, I saw them, their bodies . . .” I felt the tears brimming in my eyes as my vision got blurry. It felt good to cry. It felt as if I was draining some of the vast reservoir of pain that I kept inside me. The numbness that had consumed me was slowly easing its hold.

She wrapped her arms around me. She didn’t need to say anything for me to know she was there for me. Whatever I was going through, she would always be there.

When the last of my tears ran dry, I hugged my bent knees. We were quiet for a little while. “You should really think before you go blurting things like that. We are all here for you. Just talk to us. Let us in. We’re
here
for
you.
” Claire’s hand on my arm felt heavy and, at the same time, soothing, calming me down. Soon my eyelids felt heavy, too.

I woke up as a slight burning sensation began in my back, between my shoulder blades. I moved around the bed in discomfort, trying not to wake Claire, hoping it would soon go away. But it didn’t. The burning intensified until it became too much to take.

I got out of bed, climbing carefully over Claire and making sure I didn’t disturb her. Going into the bathroom, I swung the medicine cabinet door open and I poked around until I found the small orange bottle. I threw two pills onto my tongue, following them down with a big gulp of water.

“
It will all change.”

My mother’s voice rang in my head. The pain kept growing as flashes of the dream of Claire ran through my head. Lilith . . . Claire . . . The burning was now almost unbearable. My hands clutched the cold marble counter as I let out a silent scream. The pain eased a little, but then another wave came and this time I grunted aloud. Whatever this was, it wouldn’t go unnoticed.

My shirt felt tight, as if someone were pulling on it from the back. I pulled it off over my head and threw it onto the floor. My hands felt sticky. I looked down at the faint trace of blood across my palms. I turned to the side and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

What the hell . . . ?

I stared at my reflection in horror. There were two bloodied slits on the middle of my back, perhaps an inch inward from my shoulder blades. With each wave of pain, they grew larger, tearing my skin open. I fell to my knees and let out an agonized growl as I squirmed, hoping to find a way to make it stop. As I stood back up and looked at myself in the mirror, I saw my eyes glow. Another growl escaped my throat, and a ripping sound filled my ears. The tears were flowing incessantly as the trickle of blood worked its way down my back and onto my jeans.

There was a tap at the door. “Jade? Are you all right?” I couldn’t answer her. Instead, a piercing scream came out of my chest. The pain intensified, and I closed my eyes, both hands covering my face. There was the sound of the shower curtains being pulled back, and something thumped against the door, making me wince. “Jade!” Claire was screaming at me to open the door.

The pain subsided a little, and at last I dared open my eyes. The slow burning sensation spread in a wave from my back onto my limbs, and then it was gone. I stood motionless, afraid the pain would come back if I moved. I slowly looked up and met my glowing eyes in the mirror. Intrigued by them despite the pain and fear, I leaned closer. The green irises took on a fiery neon shine, with the edges burning a bright red.
What . . .
I recoiled from the mirror and took in my full reflection, which brought the terror back with a vengeance. The door flew open, and Claire barged in.

“
Oh, my, Jade . . .” Her eyes were wide with shock.

“
I . . . I . . .” But what was there to say? I had no words for what had just happened. “What is happening?” I asked her when I regained the power of speech. As if she could explain such a thing.

“
It’s okay, Jade,” she said. “You will be okay.” She closed the space between us and put her hands on either side of my face. Her gray eyes bored into mine. My body felt heavy, and so did my eyelids. “It will all be okay.”

The darkness swirled around me until it had consumed my awareness, and I was gone.

* * *

The school allowed only a three-day mourning period for any family death, and since I had already missed four days, I had no choice but go to school that Friday.

I woke up in a dazed state, unsure what to make of last night. What was a dream, and what was real?
What a nightmare.
Massaging my throbbing temples, I looked over to the clock on the nightstand and pulled the covers off.

Claire.

I looked around the still darkened room but couldn’t find her. As I shuffled into the bathroom I sniffed the air.
Pancakes.
Realizing I was famished, I hurried into the bathroom for a quick shower. On the floor, crumpled next to the vanity, was the white shirt I had on last night, now splotched with red stains. I picked it up and examined it closely, but I already knew they were blood.

Could it not have been a nightmare after all? Had it truly happened? What did it mean?

Feeling disoriented and thoroughly confused, I got into the bathtub, turned on the shower, and let the warm water caress my skin. My head throbbed harder than before, and to make matters worse, I was now nauseated. I curled into a ball in the tub and hoped Claire would come and check on me soon.

“
Jade?” I must have dozed off, because when I came to, the water from the shower was barely warm. Claire came into the bathroom and found me crying and shivering in the tub. “Oh, no,” she said gently. “Here, let me help you.” Grabbing a towel from the bathroom closet, she helped me up.

She helped me dry off and then slid my arms through the robe that was hanging behind the bathroom door. Before even making it to the door, I threw up in the toilet. Sitting there on the floor, without looking up, I asked the one thing that had me scared to death: “What is happening to me?”

She didn’t answer, which prompted me to look up at her. My body was shaking uncontrollably—whether from cold or fear, I couldn’t be sure. A mix of emotions ran wild through her face: sadness, pain, expectation.

“
Claire? What’s happening to me?” I repeated, pleading this time.

She knelt on the floor next to me and rubbed my back. “It’ll be okay,” she said. “You don’t need to worry.” I shook my head and let her help me up. “It’s going to get better.” She sat me on my bed and went to my closet to pick out something for me to wear.

“
Thank you,” I said as she helped me get dressed. And as she went to the bathroom and came back with the hairbrush, I said, “You know you’ll have to tell me what’s going on, right?” I didn’t understand how I could be so calm; it was as if something in the air were making me feel that way. Somehow, I was immune to the nervousness I should be feeling.

“
I know,” she said. “Let’s just try to get through today. We’ll have all weekend to talk about things.”

She pulled my hair onto a ponytail, the straight ends caressing my back.

“
Voila!” she said. “You’re all done. Now, let’s go downstairs and get some food in you. We need you strong.” The smile on her face could not ease the fear that clenched in my gut. My back tingled again as we headed down the stairs.

11 THE ENCOUNTER

My first day back at school, and I could feel all eyes on me. The day was gloomy, with low-hanging clouds in every shade of gray. Thunder rumbled in the distance, sounding as if there were a bowling alley in the sky. I had pleaded with Claire many times to let me stay home. But she was adamant that I take my life back, that I not let what had happened rule how my life would unfold from this point forth. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” she said. “It didn’t kill you.”

I wasn’t so sure. I hadn’t physically died, but everything in me—my soul, my heart—was broken. The Jade who existed before was gone, and now all that remained was the burden of what happened—a burden I would carry with me until the end of time.

As soon as we got out of the car, students stared at me, some sending their silent sympathy, others whispering under their breaths as they checked me out. Another time, I may have not cared, but now my moods were fluid and unpredictable, and I could feel the anger rise from deep within me.

I walked the rest of the way with my eyes glued to the floor, somehow navigating through the traffic of bodies in the hallway. On the painful way to my locker, a few teachers approached me and gave me their deepest condolences. I simply nodded and never said a word. I tried to smile, but I don’t think it ever showed in my face.

I made it to first period just in time. Everyone was already seated when I opened the door and walked in, just as the bell rang overhead.
Great,
I thought.
More pitying looks
. The room fell silent as I made my way to my desk. The way everyone was acting was starting to get under my skin. Did they think I felt better because they felt bad for me? Because I went through a tragedy? No, all I wanted was for it all to stop, for everyone to leave me alone and treat me normally—or, better yet, just don’t think about me at all. I wanted to go home and curl up in the bed, pull the shades down, and never get up.

I sat down at my desk, making as much noise as possible when I dropped my bag on the floor. Avan leaned over and squeezed my hand, and suddenly things seemed more bearable. And yet, I pulled my hand away and put it inside the pocket of my hoodie. I didn’t need people feeling bad for me. It just made everything worse. I knew he just wanted to be there for me, but
I
wasn’t there anymore.

Mr. Morris walked toward me and leaned in to whisper, “Jade, my sincere apologies for what has happened. And although I don’t wish to make it any harder for you, I will need you to remove your sunglasses, dear. No sense in you or me getting in trouble over them.” He stood tall and glanced down at me, waiting to remove my shades.

“
No.”

My voice sounded so firm and loud, it caught even me off guard. Claire’s mouth fell open. Nate shook his head slightly.

Mr. Morris straightened and, not whispering this time, said, “I’m afraid it isn’t a request.” He wasn’t about to let a seventeen-year-old talk back to him, never mind the extenuating circumstances.

Avan leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Jade, just do as he says, please?”

I rolled my eyes, though no one could see it behind my shades.

I pulled them off and stared Mr. Morris dead in the eye. From the astonished look on his face, it was worse than I had imagined. Some kids who had turned around to watch the exchange gasped.

After Claire and I walked into the school this morning, I had stayed behind, needing a moment before running the gauntlet of pitying looks inside. Watching all the kids hurry into the building, some chatting next to their cars, smiles and laughter all around, I had felt like throwing a punch through a window. But instead, I had gone into the bathroom and pulled out my makeup bag. I looked in the mirror and drew thick lines all around my eyes. After all, I was the emo girl, right? When I had done my makeup I hadn’t taken into account what I would see once I opened my locker: a picture of me sandwiched in between Mom and Dad. Just as the picture on my phone screen had done, it invited unbidden tears, with no way of stopping them. I slammed the locker shut and ran into a bathroom stall again to muffle my cries. I hadn’t bothered to glance in the mirror, or I would have seen what the tears did to my makeup.