Page 76 of The Cannibal

“Calm down, you’re all right,” he said, his arm shaking as it bled.

I took his arm, wiping my tongue over the punctures to clot it. I tried to hand him the cloth but he waved me off, pulling out another from his other pocket. He handed me the clean one, swiping it over my mouth and holding it there until my hands replaced his. It took a moment for the coughing to stop, as if I tried to inhale it into my lungs instead. My eyes wrenched shut as I pulled myself together.

John wrapped his arm, tying the cloth around before he reached out to rub my back, as if that would usher the rest of the fit out.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, muffled by the cloth.

“It was worth a try.” He shrugged it off, but no hopefulness in the world would convince me he didn’t look startled.

“I appreciate the thought.” I finished wiping the blood from my mouth and lips, paranoid some of it would be left on my chin.

The breeze chilled the sweat on my brow, reminding me of where I was. I shifted my slippers over the outdoor carpet, a couple dry rose leaves crunching beneath. The day dress was a deep burgundy, my shawl was black with tassels brushing against the fabric. Slowly my mind, and stomach, were settled again.

I should be back in the lab. The longer I procrastinated, the guiltier I felt doing even the most normal of things.

“Johnny!” a joyful voice cut through the air. You could hear the woman’s body hit John’s when she hugged him.

“How was the travel?” John laughed.

Mary pulled her head up with a smile. “Long.”

“Mary?” I mumbled, looking toward the entrance to the roof.

Rebecca, Phoebe, Luka, even Cordelia in tow.

“What happened to your arm?” Mary’s face dropped as she grasped his makeshift bandage.

“It was itchy.” He leaned forward to push himself off the chair, but Mary’s eyes locked with mine. She offered a smile, but it was short-lived before she walked away with John.

The group huddled, and I realized they had only come to the roof for John.

It added insult to injury that they seemed happier greeting Luka. Since waking, it was like a new world, an alternate timeline where I wasn’t as important and the relationships I’d built weren’t as well fortified as I’d thought.

An emptiness spread in my chest, a numbness taking over.

This was mortifying.

Even Phoebe was too caught up in the excitement to see I was even there. They all buzzed around each other like bees and flowers, disappearing as they chattered back down the stairs.

My heel rasped against the ground, the silence overwhelming as the voices retreated.

Alone on the roof with my thoughts.

I could go inside, but I may hurt my own feelings attempting to socialize. There was no joy in socializing anyway, not for me.

Not even meditative breaths could settle me now.

Everyone was settled by the time I made it to the parlor. I skipped dinner, not that I would have been able to eat much.

Thunder rumbled from far off as the ceiling window turned dark and red from the incoming storm. It was the perfect night to light an absurd number of candles, cozy up with a hobby, and let the sounds of rain pattering lull you through the storm.

The room looked even warmer when only lit by candles. The shades of red calmed the eye and warmed whatever it could within only minutes of resting in its presence.

Everyone had already settled down, mostly near one of the fireplaces. They even pulled up extra armchairs and cushions, just like we used to do back in Buffalo during cold nights.

Yet I was in the opposite corner, shaded by the decorative palm. The only other interaction I received aside from viewing the back of Rebecca’s head was maybe an apologetic nod in passing as they collected the extra seats around me. I thought I had outgrown the feeling that everything was a personal slight in group settings, but now it was harder than ever to believe it could be anything else.

“A bit lonesome over here.” Phoebe slid next to me on the sofa, placing a cup of bloodwine in my hand.