CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

When I wake on Sunday morning, all I can do is stare at the ceiling.

Caden and Sarah's research in the library yesterday proved to be a waste of time. Patrick is a dead-end. And my time is still running out. I don't even know what to do anymore.

I breathe slowly, in and out, and let my eyes trace the blemishes and small cracks in the ordinary painted ceiling, allowing time to dissolve and slip away like sand from my grasp. I didn't want to wake up to today, but here I am, and all I want now is for this moment to freeze. I wish to be forever lodged in this instant, where no one is speaking and nothing is happening, where even the wind outside seems to be bored and calm, blowing the bits of snow lazily around, as if its fiddling with its fingers or playing with its food at dinner.

Then someone knocks on the door and I sit up in bed, my temporary moment of nothingness shattering. The person behind the door doesn't wait for me to say anything, and enters before I get the chance to let them.

"Hey," says Sarah sweetly, stepping into the room.

I yawn. "Hey."

There's silence as she walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. Then I ask: "How come you're here so early?"

"I decided to stay the night, so I camped out on the lounge downstairs."

I just nod.

A little while later, she says, "Um, we're gonna have lunch in a bit, so if you want to join us, you should probably start getting dressed and ready."

"Lunch?" I ask. How long was I staring at that ceiling for?

"You slept in; it's 11:30."

"Okay, I'll be ready soon."

Sarah smiles again. "Okay. We'll be downstairs." Then she leaves and I lean back further against the bedhead and close my eyes, wishing that time didn't always end.

-:-:-:-:-

It happens when I'm walking down the stairs.

One moment everything's normal, then suddenly the air is spinning around my shoulders and reaching for my chest. It all happens so quickly, I barely even have time to register the fact that it is happening, and when the fire explodes in my chest, I'm caught off-guard and trip. I feel my knee buckle and I skid down half the staircase before my hand shoots out and hits the wall, stabilising my body.

I'm sure I have carpet burns all down my arms and shins, but it barely even registers because of the fire raging inside me, tearing through my veins and extending to all parts of my body. A gulp of air turns into lava as it sinks into my lungs, the usually soft-feeling carpet feels like needles digging into my skin under my weight.

The pain is present everywhere, and all at once, it's too much. Like with that day in class, I feel myself edging away from the fire until suddenly I'm having an out-of-body experience. I'm watching from above as my body sits in pain on the stairs, but it's not the same as the first time. I can still feel everything – the cold wall against my hand, the boiling fire surging through my veins – it's just dulled; my pain is the sound a television makes and someone's gone and turned the volume down.

A cry rips out of my throat and I watch my mouth open while my own ghostly mouth remains closed. It's like I'm in two places at once – occupying two minds and trying to control both of them. But the experience doesn't last long, and before I know it, I'm back in my body and everything is full-volume. The air hitting my skin feels like ice, the sound of quickly approaching footsteps are like claps of thunder assaulting my ears, the dull light leaking in through a window is as bright as staring into the sun.

I squeeze my eyes shut and feel tears escape out the corners. And I'm not just crying because of the fiery heat burning my insides. It's as if all the pain I've ever experienced has amassed within me – all the sorrow and anger and agony, all the excruciating memories, all of it. It's mashed up inside my chest, creating a welling tide of pain so severe that all I want to do is scream. But I can't and in the end, the tears just flow faster, forming scorching trails on my cheeks as I sit in silence, waiting for it all to be over.

The pain is still there when the footsteps reach me and I'm surrounded by people whose faces I can't see. I hear muffled voices, feel a hand on my arm that quickly withdraws. None of it feels real, as if they're all figments of my subconscious trying to trick me into thinking that I'm not entirely alone.

But I am. I always will be.

And with that thought, I fall into darkness.

-:-:-:-:-

When I wake, I only have a few seconds to take in my surroundings and to come to terms with the fact that I blacked out during my heat attack before I lose control of my body and I'm yanked back into the darkness.

I know immediately that I'm having a vision, and it irritates me. Couldn't it have at least waited a couple hours?

But the world dissolves around me once again and I'm taken to a bright hallway with massive glass windows on one side that allow golden shafts of light from the setting – or is it rising? – sun to pour in. Somehow, I automatically know that it isn't a vision of the past or present, but of the future.

In the vision, I follow a man down the hallway. And by I, I don't mean my vision-self – which is what I've decided to call the floating invisible form I occupy in most visions. What I mean is that I'm actually there – I'm watching through the eyes of a future me.

The man that I follow looks exactly like Patrick from behind, but he never turns around, and as we walk further, I start to notice a bunch of strangers directing wide-eyed stares my way. My future-self's heart starts to beat harder in my chest. 

We're reaching the end of the hallway when consciousness takes me roughly by the shoulders and yanks me back to the real world, where I awake groggily to a throbbing in my shoulder and a numbness in my legs.

For the second time today, I find myself staring at the ordinary white ceiling in the spare room, except this time, my mind is thinking of different things. It's stumbling through images from my vision and sensations from my heat attack, exploring the happenings of the last...what? Five minutes? Ten? Twenty?

The truth is, I have no idea how long I've been unconscious. My concept of time has slipped away while I've been visioning and now I feel like I'm floating in this in-between world where it can be both midday and late afternoon at the same time. I look for a clock on the walls, but instead my eyes find Caden, sitting on the end of the bed, and suddenly I couldn't care less about the time.

Because now the room is awkward and uncomfortable. There's a nervous pounding in my heart that jumps and stutters every time he moves, every time his eyes connect with mine, and I don't know how to control it or even where it came from. I sit up.

"Good to see you're awake," he says, and there's that stuttering again, that superfluous nervousness my heart has attained. "How are you feeling?"

I search for words, but find I can't control my voice. What's happening with me? I wonder. But I suppose I do know what's happening, deep down. There are feelings inside me I haven't tapped into, poking and prodding for attention, and now they've finally breached the surface, leaving me incapable of speech. In the end, my mouth does the speaking without the consent of my brain and the result is: "I passed out during my heat attack."

Nice one, Melissa.

I rush to cover it up before Caden can reply. "I mean, I'm fine. I'm just a bit shocked – I've never passed out during an attack before."

He nods, and I can tell at that moment we're both thinking the same thing: my heat attacks are getting worse. Or at least, that's what I want to be thinking. Because all I can seem to focus on are his rich brown eyes and soft pink lips which seem so–

Oh my god, stop it. He's just a friend.

I shrug off all thoughts of feelings and think about other, more important things as Caden says, "We already ate an hour ago so I brought up your lunch for if you're feeling hungry."

I look to my left at where a sandwich sits on the plain wood side table, and say, "Lunch was an hour ago?"

"Yeah, you've been unconscious for a while."

I frown. "I didn't realise visions could last that long."

I don't realise what I've said until Caden's words reach my ears. "You had a vision?"

I nod. Good, this a good topic – productive, non-awkward, safe. "Yeah, it was nothing special though. I just followed a man down a hallway amongst a bunch of strangers. That's all."

Caden frowns. "You sure it doesn't have any meaning? Who was the man?"

I shrug. "Could've been anyone – I didn't see his face." I didn't have to.

It dawns on me then that I'm holding back information, and I don't know why.

Caden sighs. "Okay, well, I'm gonna head back downstairs. Come down when you're ready." He flashes me a small smile and leaves.

"Okay," I whisper to his retreating form, wishing he had stayed longer.

Thoughts of Caden fill my mind as I eat my lunch, filling my body with both food and longing. How did these feelings develop? I've never had a crush before in my life and now suddenly I feel myself being drawn to Caden.

I don't like it.

When I come downstairs later, everyone is sitting on the couches, chatting and laughing. I must spoil the mood, because the second I enter the room, everyone falls quiet, their faces adopting solemn expressions.

"Hey," I say meekly, then inwardly curse for sounding so pathetic.

Sarah stands, all smiles and mirth, and says, "Hey, how you feeling?" She walks over to me, a bounce in her step, and grabs my arm, leading me away from Rand and Caden who watch on in silence.

"I'm good..." I say, looking over my shoulder in confusion. "Is everything okay?"

She nods. "Everything's fine." I can hear the lie in her words, but I don't push it.

"Where are we going?" I ask as she leads me towards the front door.

"Nowhere," she says, grinning mischievously. "It's a surprise."

Half an hour later, I'm standing out the front of the cinemas, Sarah beaming next to me.

"Did you plan this?" I ask.

"Not really. I just felt like being spontaneous. Plus, I haven't been to the movies in forever."

"Same here," I say. She starts walking forward, but I grab her hand.

"What?" she asks, frowning.

"I'm scared to go in."

She laughs. "It's a cinema. It's dark, not deadly. You'll be fine."

I nod, and follow her in, but some small part of me still worries, still feels as though going inside is a bad idea, and I don't try to ignore it.

We buy two tickets for a movie I've never heard of before but Sarah assures me that her friend said it was amazing. I can't get past the fact that she has a friend I don't know about, and her comment that the movie apparently is 'amazing' slips in one ear and out the other.

Thoughts of her unknown friend are still bugging me when we're seated and waiting. And even though I have no business snooping around her life, I can't help but wonder. In ten years, I never once gained a friend. So how did she? Was she really normal enough to blend into society like an average girl? Jealousy swirls in my gut.

"So who's this friend you mentioned?" I ask, my curiosity finally getting the better of me.

My question seems to catch her off-guard, and I can see her visibly struggling to find a response. But then she closes her mouth and sighs, shrugging. "I don't know, no one important, I suppose."

"Do you have many friends?" I can't help it – the question escapes my mouth before I can stop it.

She looks me in the eye. "I did, but..." She looks down. "Not anymore," she finishes quietly.

"What happened?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

There's a long stretch of silence before she replies. "I don't want to talk about it," she says finally.

I let the subject drop, but make a mental note to revisit the topic sometime later. For some reason, it feels important, as if her past is a vital piece of information needed to understand the future.

And there's a lot about the future that I need to understand.