Desperate Remedies

I woke up in agony. Cold sweat running from my forehead and my head spinning around in circles, brain doing little dances. Oh I wish I was dancing right now.

I looked up and waited for the blurriness to go away. Funny uneven shapes crawling on the wall and I assumed there was fire nearby. Yes, I could feel its heat. I groaned as I turned on my right shoulder to see where the heat was coming from and saw a back I did not recognize. I wish my brain danced in the direction of memories of where the hell I was and how I got there.

Click. The person turned around and looked straight into my soul with their big black eyes. A shiver ran down my spine and gave me goosebumps which in turn made me groan. Tick, tick, tick. Mechanically, with each passing second, memories were coming back to me one by one. Not a story, just bits. Impressions. Feelings. Faces.

I wanted to scratch my neck but my hands couldn’t move. The redhead slid closer to me and did what I intended to. I looked at the scar by their eye. It was old. Tick. I’m cutting a young boy on his face. I jolted and the redhead pulled away their hand as if I was burning hot. I heard the cracking wood behind them. Did he see it too?

“Did I see what.” It didn’t sound like a question.

Their stare became blank. It reminded me about the cold sweat on my body and I became cold. They threw a piece of cloth on me.

“What I see.”

“I don’t see what you see. I hear what you say. You’re loud. And you don’t want to remember.”

“I do want to remember.”

“You don’t.”

They crawled back to the fire, staring at its dying flames.

The flow of memories coming back was slowing down and my mind was able to walk between them instead of running. I couldn’t tell what most of the bits were. But I knew there was torture. I knew there was heat. And cold. Loud noises. Guns.

The redhead turned around in a split of a second, putting a knife to my throat.

“Cut it out,” they said through their teeth.

A strange thing happened then. I noticed they were looking past me. No. Through me. I tried to look back but the knife cut my throat. It didn’t really feel bad, not compared to how the memories made me feel, but the liquid running down on my skin didn’t feel pleasant. The redhead licked their knife making their mouth spread into a thin smile.

They turned me around. Their tiny stick-like arms sent me almost flying and I screamed from the unexpected move. I heard a quiet continuous noise and I couldn’t make out what it was. I knew I’d heard it before, but I just couldn’t place it anywhere. At least not until I felt my hands again. It was so strange, as if I’ve never had hands before. I couldn’t figure out how to move my fingers, they were just moving up and down in a disorderly fashion. The redhead chuckled.

“No, like this.”

They took my middle finger and folded the rest. I don’t know why, but I chuckled too. They started laughing even harder.

“Flip off.”

The laughing stopped, the light disappeared and the cool of the cave reached my bones. I shivered. I saw frames of pictures in front of me. Moving. A story. Finally.

I saw my hands. All fingers perfectly in sync with my body. And the slightest movement causing… chaos. I saw what I assumed was my own face. It was smiling much wider than the redhead. And my eyes were much colder. No trace of warmth.

I felt two of my fingers show up, a movement that no one would notice. Bodies would fly. I don’t know who they were. I felt power. Much greater than the redhead’s.

The light was back on. The redhead was holding my shoulders, frowning, They shook their head. My hands were untied, so were my legs. I saw the ropes next to them. Their hands were still holding a knife.

I looked down. And saw red. Burgundy. Was it the word? Thin lines all over my body and I could not feel them. Strange. I had a piece of clothing on my upper body. It was white and red, same red lines except thicker. I looked like a piece of art. I heard the wood cracking.

I met the redhead’s eyes again.

“One. Move.” They carved every word. “One. Move.” They pretended to cut their throat. And then, as if it were the most casual conversation ever, turned around to the fire. “The fish is almost ready.”

“Am I allowed to move closer to the fish?” Fire. I meant to say fire.

“Yes, you’re allowed to move closer to the fire.” Were they smiling?

My eyes were glued to them. Why did they say the move thing then.

“You know what I mean,” their voice was mechanical.

I didn’t know what they meant, but I crawled closer to them. My skin became covered in goosebumps as my elbow brushed theirs.

***

The night was warm. Nothing to disturb the city except the train rides and the planes. It was calm. As calm as a city in the middle of a war could be. A distant cry echoed through the thick dust in the air as the children mistook it for a lullaby spell. The explosions were the alarm clock – get up and get ready. Move, never stay at home. Hope, fear, blood.

***

We ate. The fish was so good my eyes rolled back, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted that fish. I felt their stare as I licked my fingers with my eyes close. One moment and there’s pressure squeezing them, I could feel the joints almost crushing. I felt relief for a moment and then it got worse.

“Now that you regained energy you can show me what you know. Whether you want it or no. I’ll find out.”

Without almost any effort they swung the blade of their knife by my cheek and I flinched.

“I don’t want to cause you pain. I want to understand. So she can live.” They licked my wound and my eyes became watery.

“So who can live?” The words came from somewhere deep within.

Another picture. A house blowing up. There’s no sound. But there’s smell. Putrid sweet smell and I almost throw put but I try to keep my cool as something is running down my cheeks. The liquid was never named in the books I read. I wish I could remember the names of those books.

I saw bones. A body. Half the size of me and I just knew the bones were broken before it became a charred pile. There was no face. Just the scull. I knew I’d seen worse.

“You saw her. I can feel. I know you see pictures. I hear voices. You’ll tell me how to be strong. I’ll. Release you.”

“I didn’t.”

I felt another part of my skin come apart. I shook my head slowly.

“Then I’ll figure out how you feel no pain and teach her.”

I couldn’t figure out that word. The blank was exactly the same length, lips moved the same, words around it… I don’t know. The way I felt shouldn’t have been taught anyone. I couldn’t lie or sit or stand or move comfortably, my mind was foggy and I couldn’t explain what that was or how to make it better. I gasped as I felt the knife split another place on my arm.

The redhead stopped.

“So you do feel it.”

They glanced at my head, my reddish arms and legs covered in dirt and the same red substance.

“You bleed.” They licked their knife. “You bleed blood. The same one I do.”

Silence.

I closed my eyes. Port… you. Hey! I felt them shake my shoulders.

“Hey! Is it not as important for you? Do you… Are you like me? Do you take drugs? Are you different?”

I lifted my head and the redhead became a teenager. Not a child, but young enough to be living with their parents and enjoy disobeying. I felt energy run through my fingers a second before the their neck became covered with red and eyes filled with a reddish liquid. I came closer to them to grab their hand, they didn’t look well. I didn’t, a little girl screamed.

The redhead’s eyes were doing slow tiny movements, shifting from my left eye to my right. I looked at their nose, freckles, lips, chin, neck… There was a thick line on their neck.

“Yes. It’s me.” Their steel voice gave me shivers. “She saved me. Now it’s my turn. Explain.”

I felt my heart beating faster. Why couldn’t I remember a thing about me!

“I can’t!” I felt warm liquid running down from my eyes. I felt the blade of the knife on my cheek. It was warm. It was sticky. It was disgusting. I felt it slowly dig into my skin. A sharp sensation on my neck.

My fingers moved behind my back. I felt the same energy running through them. My eyes were closed but I knew what I’d done. It was deeper this time. The less control I had greater force I released. I felt more warm liquid escape from my eyes.

I fell on my right side and screamed. Why would anyone want to know how to feel this. The red puddle was spreading. It became a carpet. It was nice for the both of us to fall asleep on it together. Maybe later they would find out how to make it better.