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The guys are really sweet about my sudden tiredness, and Cove insists on putting me to bed in his room. After a nap, where I fell asleep listening to music and I wake up feeling worse than ever, Cove joins me and we watch a couple of films together on his laptop, and Reef makes me drink a hot toddy, which is pretty gross but I drink it because he promises it will help and because he went to the trouble of making it for me.
By the evening, I’m so achy and sore all over, I can’t even make it out of bed to go downstairs and have dinner with the guys, so Bhodi brings me Chinese take-out to eat in bed. He also brings more bottled water to keep me hydrated, but I ask for a pop instead, claiming that I could really use the sugar hit. When he goes back downstairs to get me one, I slip into the bathroom and pour the water down the sink, refilling the bottles from the tap.
I don’t know why I feel the need to be sneaky about it, but there’s something about that bottled water that makes me feel odd. I can’t figure it out though; my head’s too fuzzy to work out what it might be.
I end up falling asleep way too early and thinking ‘I’ll regret this tomorrow’ just as my eyes drop closed.
In my fevered dreams I slip in and out of consciousness, being chased by dark, shadowy beings in hooded black cloaks.
They reach for me with clawed talons attached to bare, skeletal bones. Whenever they make contact with my skin, pain unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before erupts inside my skull.
They could easily catch me and be done with the agonising chase, but they seem to enjoy playing with me. Hunting me only to inflict torture on me for a few minutes, before letting me go again.
Each time I’m released and run, I have a little less energy than the time before. But it doesn’t feel like tiredness, it feels like my life force is being drained each time they feed off me.
I race through the forest, screams of tortured souls echoing all around me, until I’m confused and lost, spinning in helpless, dizzying circles.
With one final spurt of energy, I propel myself forward into the clearing and tumble out onto the beach. It’s deserted, but not for long as the cloaked demons stalk me. In the distance I can make out a beach house, and somehow I just know that if I can make it there, I’ll be safe.
I stumble and fall in the soft sand, struggling to make my jelly legs work. I see the silhouette of a vaguely familiar person watching on with interest and a moment later a blinding light erupts from within me, banishing the creatures from this world.
Then I’m being held in safe arms, staring up into kind, green eyes and told all is well. I can rest now. Sleep.
But I want to remember.
Sunday, I feel worse than ever. Despite sleeping for a solid sixteen hours and having naps, I feel drowsy, lethargic, and wiped out. It’s like my battery is completely empty and no amount of rest, good food or hydration is recharging me.
I spend the morning in bed but by noon I actually need a change of scenery, and so Cove helps me downstairs and deposits me on the sofa with blankets and snacks. I try to do some schoolwork on my laptop, but I can’t concentrate and my hands are shaking so bad, I keep pressing the wrong keys.
When I start vomiting uncontrollably, the guys lose their minds. Cove let slip that the prof isn’t around when discussing whether they should call him for advice on what to do with me. Bhodi makes noises about taking me to the hospital and I panic, freaking out and getting myself even more worked up.
Cove tries to reassure me that it would be a last resort, but I beg and plead with Reef to make them promise not to get medical professionals involved under any circumstances. He agrees, because as my fake therapist, he knows exactly what the hospital put me through in the name ofrehabilitation therapy. I can’t go through that again. Especially not feeling like this. I don’t think I could survive it.
I manage a little soup and dry bread, and accept a bottle of water from Reef. I’m too tired to ask for anything else, and I sip it slowly without complaint. That tingling, fuzzy feeling starts again and not long after, I’m asleep.
“Malia, Mai-Tai…”
It’s like being called under water. I kick and fight my way against the current trying to drag me back down, and desperately try to breach the surface.
I wake gasping for air, feeling like I was drowning.
“Are you okay, Malia? How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I lie. Reef gives me a soft smile that very gently tells me he knows I’m bullshitting him.
“We spoke to the prof. We think we know what’s wrong with you?”
“What is it?’
“Withdrawal.” I frown.Withdrawal?Withdrawal from what? That word makes me sound like an addict or a junkie. “From your medications from the hospital.”
“Oh.” Suddenly it makes sense.
“We think you’re over the worst of it. The vomiting probably helped to speed things along a little. Just stay hydrated, and if you’re feeling up to it, eat a little.”
“I could eat. I’m starving actually.” I scratch at my arm absentmindedly and then stretch and yawn. “I need to stretch my legs.”
“Okay, just go easy, you’re bound to be unsteady on your feet.”
