Coil of Worlds

Lara found herself sternly looking at the door as it slowly opened, revealing a confused roommate. She was back. She lifted her head to see the exact damage before she moved. She jerked in surprise. Her hands were caked in dried blood, and there was no saving the clothes. Her feet felt as if they’d been smashed with a sledgehammer and slashed with a double-bladed razor.

For a moment she couldn’t figure out where her sandals were, but then she remembered she’d thrown them away. Becky’s look of bewilderment twisted to growing horror. Lara averted her eyes away from her friend, afraid she’d start crying like a broken water bucket again.

Becky blasted her with questions, frantic with the need for answers, fear making her voice waver and become strident. “What in the world happened to you? Is the blood yours? Do I need to call 911? Are you hurt? Can you move? You’re scaring me. Why aren’t you answering me?”

Her friend was on the edge of panic, and Lara was too physically and emotionally exhausted to deal with her. Summoning energy she did not have, she said, “I’m okay. I’m okay. Calm down. It looks worse than it is. Trust me, I know. Besides, most of it isn’t mine.”

The whites of her eyes showing, Becky wailed, “But I don’t understand. I was only gone for two hours. How could this have happened to you? You look like you’ve been in a horrible car accident.”

“Two hours? Wait, only two hours? I’ve only been asleep for a little more than thirty minutes, a max of forty-five?” She’d been in the tunnels for at least three or four hours. In her shock, she made a grab for her friend, except her friend squealed and leapt off the bed. Becky scuttled toward the closet, not taking her gaze off Lara the whole way, ensuring she wasn’t touched. It pained her to see her friend jump away in revulsion, but Lara crushed the feeling to focus on the situation.

“Becky, are you sure you were only gone for two hours?” Even as she asked, she glanced at the clock to check the time. When she turned back, her friend was staring at her hands with a slightly green pallor. Seeing the grimace of distaste, Lara couldn’t help but lash out at her friend. “If you can’t handle the blood, go to the other room.”

Her friend’s face darkened with guilt, and she looked up. “Yeah… Yes, it is just now twelve thirty.”

Her brain scrambled to process the information, knowing it was true. Both her clock and Becky were in agreement.

Remorse weighed down her belly for her snapping at Becky’s reaction. After all, hadn’t she felt the exact same? “I can’t think about it right now,” she muttered under her breath. She gave a shaky groan as she tried to roll off the bed to stand up. Every muscle hurt—even her lungs. She would have fallen in a dead faint if Becky hadn’t come to her rescue, steadying her while still ensuring she didn’t come in direct contact with any of the blood on Lara.

Worry dipping her voice half an octave, Becky insisted, “Lara, tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do to help you.”

With her friend helping her, she was able to keep her eyes from rolling into the back of her head. She was so tired, though she was coherent enough to reassure her friend. “Really, I’m okay. I’m just sore. But I’m going to go crazy if I don’t get the blood off me.” She shuddered as her skin pulled tight beneath the dried blood.

She caught herself before she laid her hands on Becky’s shoulders to comfort her. Her breath caught in her throat on a whimper. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold herself together for her friend’s sake.

Her nightmare wasn’t a nightmare at all. The last shreds of denial were brutally ripped away.

It was all real. Her death would have been real. The deaths of the two rakir by her hand really happened. It meant she’d seen and touched the dead bodies of men that had been living and breathing before the battle. Shivers overtook Lara’s body, leaving her friend to help her into the bathroom without another word.

Lara did have enough pride to slam the door in Becky’s face, removing her friend’s overwhelming concern from the confines of the tiny room. The bloodied shirt was now stiff and scratchy. Between that and her sore muscles, it took several attempts to pull the ruined shirt over her head. She ignored her friend’s constant peppering of questions through the door. Slowly lowering herself to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, she tried to peel off the grimy and tattered bandages. In growing agitation, she realized the bandages were stuck to the bottoms of her feet, and the dried blood acted as an adhesive.

Because of the exhaustion, it took her a few minutes of sluggish thinking to recall how to unstick the bindings on her feet. The raw panic that had been climbing its way through her body, clamoring to become a full-blown attack, retreated a little. If she didn’t get clean, crazy was going to be an understatement.

She leaned over to turn on the hot water and almost fell into the tub in the process. “S-Shoot a monkey,” she cursed aloud as she caught herself, planting her left hand on the wall. Her reaction time was slow. Too slow. She shook her head, hoping to jar the lethargy swimming through her body. After watching the hot water fill the tub—the steam rising to fill the bathroom with muggy air, Lara got her bearings and swung both her feet over the edge. She closed her eyes in bliss as she submerged her feet. Although the water reached almost scalding levels, it rejuvenated her feet and ankles.

Only when Lara felt a sucking sensation on her legs did she open her eyes. The bottom half of her pants were soaked; she’d forgotten to take them off. She reached over with her right arm and clumsily turned the water off. The water was a murky red with clumps of dirt floating in the corners of the tub.

The first wrapping had her sweating from the effort and pain shooting up her leg. The other foot left her shaking uncontrollably, and the last of her energy was used to discard the wraps. She scrubbed her hands, her whole body shaking from exhaustion. Getting clean was the only thing she cared about. Lara grabbed the soap to scour the red stains on her skin. She heard a noise and realized the pitiful, animalistic sounds came from her.

When she pressed her lips together, total silence descended except for the few splashes of water from her movements. Her friend had retreated, finally tired of cajoling Lara into talking. She pulled the plug and watched as the murky water drained with a gurgle.

Lara refilled the tub two more times before she felt squeaky clean. The tears hit her as the tub filled for the last time. The first sob was almost silent, but the others were huge, wracking her entire frame.

As suddenly as she started crying, she stopped. Using the water to wipe her face, she sat up and took stock. Her skin was now scrubbed within an inch of its life, leaving her red and raw in some places but pink and rosy everywhere else.

Taking a steadying breath, she stumbled out of the tub. With a towel wrapped around her, Lara shuffled out of the bathroom to the vanity area in search of a mirror. But she turned away for fear of what she’d see. Lara already felt a pale shadow of her former, naïve self.

Hearing a small sound to the left, she turned around in alarm and found Becky sitting on a newly made bed with clean sheets. Seeing her reaction, Becky raised her hands and patted the air. “It’s just me. Are you feeling better?”

Instead of answering, Lara shuffled to the closet in search of clothes. Becky waited her out, keeping up a running, one-sided dialogue. Lara went into the bathroom only to realize that she hadn’t unplugged the tub. She mumbled to herself, “Don’t look at the water, unplug the stopper, and go back to the other room.”

Shock, she was still in shock.

She shuffled back out to her bedroom, her brain on lockdown. Rather than listen to the actual words Becky spoke, Lara focused on the cadence of her speech.

By the time she was able to concentrate on the sentences, her friend had already been talking for several minutes. She stood unmoving by the bed. She brought her hand up, bringing her friend’s rambling words to a halt. Becky looked at her with watchful eyes. What did her friend see?

Her raised hand started to tremble, so she hid it behind her back. “I’m sorry. I’m not following you right now.” Lara turned to stare down at the bed with dismay. It was a long way down. Lara stated the obvious, “I’m going to lie down now.”

Becky jumped forward to help her into bed. Her friend’s quiet fussing brought her out of the strange funk cocooning her, feeling a little more like her old self. Turning her head to give a tired, half-hearted glare, Lara said, “Don’t even think about it. I can get myself into bed.”

Her friend gave her a relieved grin. “I don’t know about that. You’ve needed more and more help as the days go on, you know.” Becoming serious, Becky looked her straight in the eyes. “What happened, Lara? Can you tell me?”

Uncomfortable at the intrusion, she shifted her eyes and stared unseeingly toward the window, grabbing the blanket in a death grip. Her eyes gave away some of the fear and horror she’d felt while trying to survive the attack. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, and I can’t talk about it yet.”

Her friend wouldn’t, couldn’t understand. But Chion did.

Seeing her friend begin to disagree, she repeated with more strength, “No. It’s too fresh right now. Give me time. I’ll tell you when I can. Trust me.”

Though her friend looked disgruntled, she gave in with a small sigh. Instead, Becky asked, “Would you like some help with your feet? Even if you don’t wrap your feet tonight, you need to at least put some ointment on the cuts.” Without waiting for her consent, her roommate dug through the drawer to find the bandages and anti-bacterial cream the doctor had given her.

Trying for normal, Lara snarked, “It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, now does it?”

“Nope.”

While dressing her feet, Becky dropped a question. “You’ve been going back to that place, haven’t you?” Lara’s silence was all the answer her friend needed. Becky sighed, looking hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m your friend; I thought we were close.”

“Partly because you made me promise that if I had another dream, I’d go to a psychologist. But I’m not dreaming. Or if I am, then it is a dream where I can be hurt or killed. I’m not crazy. I just don’t understand what is happening to me. Besides, no psychologist is going to be able to help me anyway.”

“Of course, you aren’t crazy, you moron, look at your feet! There’s no way hallucinations or dreams would cause you to wake up bloody and look like you’ve been in a horrible car accident. I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me what was going on. I mean, you look like you were running away from a life-threatening situation if your feet are anything to go by.”

When her eyes guiltily jerked away from her friend’s, Becky gasped. “Oh my God! You were, weren’t you? Running. Why were you running? You hate exercise. What happened? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. How about…I will be okay.” Her friend continued looking at her, forcing her to admit the other injuries. “All right. All right. My right arm feels heavy and numb, and I can barely feel anything in my fingers. What’s more, I’ll probably have bruises and be sore beyond belief tomorrow.” She sighed, then admitted. “The soreness I can handle. My feet are my main concern.”

There was no deflecting Becky, even with her concentration on the medical wrap and tape. “I’ll ask again, why were you running on feet like that? What were you running from?”

Glaring at her friend, Lara snapped out, “And I said it was too soon to talk about it.” The look on her friend’s face had her instantly regretting her hasty words. “Oh Becky, I’m sorry. Right before the squeaky door woke me, I was running and fighting for my life. I can’t talk about it yet. Believe me, it’s too soon. I am barely holding together as it is. I just know that if I start talking, I’ll start bawling my eyes out. Shakes, snot and all. I won’t be able to stop.”

Becky finished wrapping her feet in silence, reached over, and patted her leg. “And I’m sorry I am so impatient. I’m just worried about you. It’s 1:30 in the morning. Maybe we should both try to get some sleep. Even if you don’t talk to me, I think you should call your parents.” When Lara opened her mouth to disagree, she rushed to explain, “You don’t have to tell them what’s going on, just talk to your mom or dad. It will make you feel better.”

“There’s no way I’m calling my parents this early in the morning. Dad has to get up at 4:00 to go to work.” She grinned and with sarcasm continued, “Besides, what would I say? Hey. I thought I would give you a call at 1:30 in the morning. No Dad, I’m not drunk, but I wanted to hear your voice. No, Dad, I’m okay. I wasn’t in an accident.”

“All right, good point, but I know how close you are to your parents. If you don’t call them today, then you should call them in the morning. And with that, Dr. Becky is done giving advice. I’m going to bed.” Reaching up to turn off the overhead light, she turned back around. “Yell if you need me.” Giving her a tight grin, she said, “I may sleep like the dead, but if you scream loud enough, I’ll hear you.”

“Night, and thanks for helping me.” She reached back and rearranged the pillow. Pulling the blankets all the way up to her chin, she curled into a ball. With Becky in the other room, the silence in the room compressed inward. Lara knew it was illusory, but breathing became more and more difficult as time passed. The moments before the rakir attack flashed through her mind. They weren’t here; this was her world. She clutched the blankets to her, feeling small and vulnerable.

To distract her from the silence around her, Lara counted the rotations of the ceiling fan above her. Somewhere around fifty her brain and body shut down for sleep. Her last thought was of the paka, and in her mind she spoke his name, Chi-