Airel

by Patterson, Aaron

  I was scared, and the more I tried to fight it the worse it was. I tried to calm down but couldn’t. Just like trying to sleep. Here I am taking a walk because math couldn’t make me sleep. What next? Now everything in the dark was scary and a hidden killer lurked behind every trashcan on the street.

  I started back to the house as my heart beat harder and harder. Don't run! That will make it worse. I took off running anyway. I was now completely terrified. I clamped my mouth shut, trying not to scream, when I saw a lone figure standing in front of my mailbox.

  I stopped instantly and looked with wide eyes at the man who stood in between me and the safety of my home. He had short, blond, hair and stood well over six feet tall, with a muscular build. He was wearing a black leather jacket and blue jeans. My heart was in my ears. All I could think about was getting out of there. I turned the other way and ran, going past my next door neighbor’s house, stumbling over their sidewalk on the way. I ducked into their side yard and ran for the back.

  Now I was petrified.

  It was the same man from the theater. I was sure of it. How did he find me? What did he want from me? I thought I knew the answer to that, but couldn't bring myself to say it or even think it. I scrambled over my neighbor’s fence and ran across their backyard, circling around toward my house again. I stopped at the gate and quietly unlatched it. I could see part of my front yard through the crack. I had to get back inside my house where it was safe, but it wouldn’t be safe if the killer knew I was there.

  I had to get closer if I was going to be able to see anything. My house had the perfect shrub to hide behind. I got down low and crept out the gate along the side of my house, hugging it closely and squeezing behind a large evergreen shrub. I parted the branches to look out. I was safe enough as long as he didn't see me. Airel, you are being reckless and putting your life in danger. What are you doing? I peered out and looked around.

  He was gone.

  The mailbox sat with the door open and the flag up, but no one was around. I looked up the street and back down again. I couldn't see the killer anywhere. Was he hiding, just waiting for me to show myself? Then a horrible thought struck me. He might be in the house.

  I waited a few minutes and finally decided to risk it and make a dash for the front door. It was only a few feet from where I was hiding and even if he was waiting, I could probably out-run him.

  Taking a deep breath, I jumped up, ran to the front door, and burst inside, slamming the door. I couldn't believe I didn't wake anyone up with that racket. I looked around the kitchen and living room as I stood with my back against the front door, gasping, trying to catch my breath.

  Everything was quiet. I sank to the floor and put my face in my hands. I wanted to cry, but I was too mad to let it escape. Who did this guy think he was? Coming to my house and scaring me to death.

  So much for going back to sleep. Then I heard the sound of footsteps on the porch. I scrambled to the island in the kitchen and ducked behind it. My heart beat in my ears and after a breathless minute I peered up and saw the shadow of a man looking in the window.

  I gasped and clamped my hand over my mouth. He didn’t see me and turned and walked away. I stood up and watched him walk down the sidewalk and disappear around the corner. The mailbox door stood open.

  Chapter XV

  The note was written in the most elegant cursive I’d ever seen, yet it chilled me to the bone.

  I know what you are!

  I stared down at it. I sat down on a bar stool heavily. What did it mean? I know what you are. Shouldn’t it say who you are—? The killer was leaving me notes and following me to my house and I was fully creeped out.

  What could I do, though? What would I do?

  I decided, for the moment, that I was overwhelmed enough to go back to bed. I was suddenly very tired. I trudged upstairs and plopped down onto my soft bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. As my body began to calm down and the bed began to warm up, I relaxed. I began to drift off to sleep, even as my mind raced with how to handle my bigger-than-life problems.

  I didn’t know who to talk to—the police? My dad? My mom? What should I tell them? Exactly how much could I reveal, even to my closest friends and family, without sounding totally insane, even to them? Could I tell the detectives about my stalker, the murderer? I mean, should I?

  What about this note, though, and what if they wanted to use it as evidence—what did that mean for me? And how exactly could I break any of this to my dad? He would totally flip out and run out to stock up on ammunition or something. That’s all I needed, for Dad to answer the door with a shotgun all the time. And what could I tell Mom—that I’m like, barfing all over the place, unexpectedly?

  My mind was finally starting to shut down, but not because I was ready for sleep. It was probably because I was in over my head and I knew it. My life had officially become berserk.

  As far as I knew, the rest of the night was uneventful. I slept through the night and even had a nice dream about Michael Alexander. Nothing too weird, just about our afternoon at the mall and how he looked at me. He could look at me one minute like I was a science project and the next, I was beautiful. Did he like me, truly? Or was I some sort of sick dare that he had with his guy friends? “See if you can get that girl to like you,” or, “I dare you to get her to go to prom with you.” So juvenile.

  A few short hours later I got out of bed. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I looked in the mirror to see if my skin had gone back to normal. Nope. Not that I was disappointed. I was beginning to like my new, airbrushed look. If this kept up I could be on the cover of People or something. Hopefully it wouldn’t be the National Enquirer. I guess I didn’t need to put on make-up today. I ran my hands through my wet hair after a shower, pulled it up, and twisted it into a messy bun. I found a #2 pencil, stuck it through the center of the bun, and smiled. Why not? City worker chic. Sweet.

  Kim sauntered into the room and looked like she was the one who was up being harassed all night by a killer. Her red hair was off in crazy-land and the bags under her eyes had their own zip code. “Morning, hot stuff!” I said as she waved me off.

  “Shut-up! I need coffee and a bagel—in that order.” She dragged herself into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. I looked at the clock.

  “If you want coffee you’d better hurry.” We had less than a half hour to get to school. We had a hardnosed teacher in our first class together and cracking down hard on tardiness was a part of his motivational technique.

  On the way to school, I couldn’t help but tune out some of Kim’s chatter. It was like I was a magnet and the fridge I was drawn to was all this crap that was happening to me. My thoughts were so crazy that they seemed like they didn’t even belong to me half the time.

  Thank God for history class. Come on, like I cared what Chinese dynasty was what, or when they built the Great Wall. But this time I wasn’t thinking about how my jeans fit, or how Marcie should really not be wearing a 6, or if I would get asked to prom by Michael—and if he did ask me why was I so scared of the question?

  No, I was stuck with the face of a murderer looking up at me from a dark movie theater, the footsteps sounding on a hard tile floor, the echo that made him far scarier. I could have very well lost my life.

  Or maybe I was just over-thinking again. It was almost painful to be this confused. Kim would have laughed and joked about that nonstop, if she would have heard me say it.

  I looked for Michael, but he was not in school that day, as far as I could tell. I wondered if he was sick—maybe he had what I had, or what I was getting over—or if something worse had happened to him. Airel. You’re acting like a lovesick headcase. Then again, maybe that’s exactly what’s happening here.

  After school, I went right home. Dad’s orders. He had made it perfectly clear what he expected from me, until this killer was caught and locked up. No negotiation. Not that I was any good at it anyway.

  The sky had a large gray and black cloud hanging
over part of my fair city, like a schoolyard bully waiting for the nerd to come around the corner so he could blow off a little steam. It smelled like rain and I didn’t care. Rain, snow—who cares.

  I was stuck at home until my own personal cloud passed over and my parents decided it was safe for dear little Airel to go out and play again. I was about to pull into my neighborhood when I felt that all-too-familiar feeling rise up in my chest. Not again!

  I pushed on the brakes just in time to throw my door open and lean out to lose my school lunch. Weird, it didn’t look much different then when it was served to me a few hours earlier. That’s what a buck-fifty buys ya—it looks like barf.

  And with that, my mind was made up. Time to call the doctor. Doctor Gee had been my doctor since forever. He had white-blond hair and the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen. I flipped open my phone and called his office. I hoped I could get in. It wasn’t flu season yet so I didn’t think it would be a problem.

  “Doctor Gee’s office,” the chipper secretary said.

  “Yeah, Hi. This is Airel—”

  “Airel, oh, how nice to hear from you!” She cut me off. I knew it was Mrs. Birch, a sweet woman who had been with the office for longer than I had been alive. “Are you feeling alright? Oh, that’s silly of me. You must not be or else you wouldn’t be calling.”

  “I’ve been pretty sick... ” I croaked, “and I was wondering if I could get in to see the doc.” I tried to sound happier then I was feeling, not that it mattered. She didn’t care if I muttered and complained about how I was feeling.

  “You know, we just had a no-show. If you like, he can see you right away. Can you be here in ten minutes?”

  I was only five minutes away so I told her I would be there. I managed to hold in the next round of queasy feelings on the way over, and as soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I started to feel much better. Murphy’s Law, I guess. You feel sick until you get to the doctor’s office. Then, miracle of miracles, you’re healed.

  Mrs. Birch’s mess of silvering hair was all 1982 and her glasses were tethered with a thin gold chain draped around her neck. She smiled and looked up at me as I came in.

  “Oh, sweetie, come on back. He’s waiting for you. My, my! How you have changed…so beautiful!”

  I blushed and turned my face away. “Thank you, but it’s just me…the same Airel as always.” She squeezed my shoulder and showed me into a small room with a table and a counter. In the corner next to the sink there was a jar of tongue depressors.

  “He'll be just one minute.” She smiled and closed the door, leaving me alone. I felt just a little scared, even though I was in my family doctor’s office. I went to the table and sat down, making the paper on the table crackle. My feet hung over the side and I felt like a little kid again. I sure hoped he could find out what was wrong with me. I didn’t know how much more of this weird sickness I could take.

  Chapter XVI

  “So, Ariel, I've been told that you’re feeling a little under the weather.” Dr. Gee smiled with his bright white teeth all showing, which made him look like he should be on the set of a soap opera rather than in front of me in a dress shirt and a tie.

  “You could say that! I think I might be dying.” I smiled back and faked a cough just to try to make myself feel better than I really was. Not that I was feeling like death at the moment, on the contrary, I was feeling great. That was what made it all so much worse. It was like never having a chance meeting with a cute boy when you were ready to. No, girls like me only ever met cute boys over breakfast, without makeup, wearing sweats and a t-shirt, and with our hair totally beyond help. Nothing ever worked out the way it was supposed to.

  “Well, tell me what’s going on—don’t butter it up for me. And tell me what you think it might be as well.” He looked at me with his blue eyes and I felt like I was looking straight into a cold sky in the dead of winter. I think I even shivered a little.

  Dr. Gee listened to my breathing through his stethoscope and looked into my ears as I began to explain the past few weeks in as much detail as I could, without explaining what each chunk of barf looked like.

  “And no—I know what you’re thinking—it’s not possible.”

  He nodded and grinned with just the left half of his face. “No boyfriend?”

  “No. Besides, I’m partial to waiting until marriage, if you know what I mean. I’ve got the ring and everything.” I held up my left hand and flashed him my ring finger, which had a thin gold band on it. “My dad gave it to me when I was thirteen.” I was a little embarrassed to be talking about this with my doctor, but he got the hint after I looked at the floor, leaving my sentence unfinished.

  “That's great.” Dr. Gee sat back on a little round chair on wheels. The silence was more than uncomfortable as he slid back a foot or so with his arms folded across his chest.

  “So what do you think about my little problem? Am I going to die?” I laughed a little, but deep down inside I was thinking I might do just that... either from this mysterious illness or by the hand of some psycho killer. Is this what people meant when they talked about being lovesick, or what?

  “I don't think you’re going to die, Airel, but I'm not sure what it might be and I would like to run a few tests, if you don't mind. I think it might be viral and I would like to rule out some things before we dig any deeper.” He saw the look on my face, pushed forward in his chair, and leaned forward to touch my arm. His orange tie hung down like a breezeless flag. “Don't worry, you’ll be fine. I just want to be sure. I don’t want to overlook anything, okay?”

  I nodded and sighed with relief.

  “Now. I’m going to have Sue take some blood, and I would like a urine sample as well. If you get sick again, I want you to call me right away, then come in. I would like to run a test when you’re feeling your worst, okay?” He pulled out his card and scrawled his cell number on the back, handing it to me with a serious look on his face. “I mean it. You call me as soon as you feel anything.”

  “I will, I promise. I don't think I want to live with the ability to vomit without any warning. It doesn’t really fit into my social agenda, doc.” I winked at him, which for me, was uncharacteristic, and it made me blush. Man, I hate when I embarrass myself like this.

  Dr. Gee laughed aloud and stood up, making him seem like a giant. He left the room and once again I was alone in the chilly office listening to the only sound in the room... the crackling paper under my legs. I was not looking forward to having my blood drawn.

  My mind wandered and came to rest on vampires, of all things. I remembered a book I read about someone who was bit and changed into a vampire—it made him sick, but he got better afterward. If you could call it that. Anyway, no one had bitten me—except for the love bug, as Kim would say. I didn't know of any vampires at my school, anyway; they weren’t even real to begin with.

  I put my hand to my cheek, felt its uncharacteristically smooth soft surface, and closed my eyes. “Changed... ” I muttered in a whisper. I hadn’t had a zit in like forever. Which, contrary to everything holy, actually gave me cause for concern. I should have paid more attention in science. “Chaaaange, Meta-MORRR-phosis,” I said to myself, in my TV announcer voice, which made me laugh. But…my skin was smoother, and all but a few of my freckles were disappearing. No, it can't be. There’s no such thing! Humans don’t undergo metamorphosis. It was probably just hormones making me insane. It’s all a part of growing up.

  Sometimes life is just sucky and unexplainable. I finally had the perfect skin I'd always wanted, but along with that came the spontaneous barfing... a package deal. Or does all of this mean something worse? Was I going to grow fangs and start craving blood?

  As I was thinking that, the hair on the back of my neck stood up on end, and I nearly followed suit. I could feel a presence in the room with me, as if something invisible had just allowed me to take notice of it and didn’t care how I felt about it, one way or another. Whatever it was, it wasn't evil. I knew that much
, because I wasn’t scared of it. In fact, it seemed like it was good all the way through to the core, filled with brilliant white light. It was just startling because I couldn’t see it. Whatever it was, I had a feeling it was here to stay.

  It spoke to me, not in a real voice or audible words, or even as my conscience, but a third voice beyond my own being. It laughed a faint little giggle and shook its head like a parent who had just heard me say something incredibly naive about silly old legends.

  It stretched like a cat, settled down and fell asleep. I had to laugh out loud about it. I had a new friend and I was not entirely sure if I wanted one or not. I had a feeling I didn't have a choice about it. Great. More drama. Just what I needed.

  Chapter XVII

  My simple life of school and the occasional pizza and movie night had been turned on its head. I not only had a genuine stalker, who seemed to like killing people and mocking me with cryptic notes, but I also had a weird disease that crept up at the most unexpected times. As for everything else, well, yikes. What was I supposed to think? I was probably certifiable now. Schizophrenic.

  I had a strong feeling that Dr. Gee wouldn’t find anything, no matter how many tests he ran. The new little voice in my head told me that it was all nothing. I had a feeling that all of this was simply pointing back to what was going on with my skin and those occasional intense growing pains. Now, as I looked in the mirror on a normal Tuesday morning, there was something more. It had been a week and still no change, ‘til last night.

  I had been startled awake at three in the morning by the most hellacious nightmare I can ever remember having. I had a headache to end all headaches and my hair, dripping wet, tangled on my face as if I had just come up for air in the river. I couldn't for the life of me remember what the nightmare was about, and I was glad about that. I summoned the courage to get up and turn on the light in my bedroom, which instantly seemed to dispel most of my fear.