Two large men barged into the room. Stopping only a few feet away, they approached with their hands slightly raised at their sides. They wore pristine medical coats like Dr. Vaughn's, but they stood like thugs.
Backing away from the doctor, the guards, and the wall mirror, she perceived the little scene of humanity’s future playing out in front of her. Her body wedged into the corner of the walls behind her. She slid down to the floor and sat cross-legged like a child. The doctor stared as if she were crazy. But her mind wasn’t in the room anymore.
Mari thought of Beni, and a hazy impression wavered in her imagination. Like the thousands of times she had tried before, she could only hold a memory of her husband for a fleeting second. It soon tore from her mind, flashing into a grotesque, grey-skinned skull with a chunk missing out of his head from his eye to his ear.
Under her breath, she cried in pain, “No-no-no-no-no-no-no!” The memory was so sharp and glaring that it always left a stain of colours on her mind, warning her never to look again for fear that the image would become permanent.
But Mari wouldn’t push it away this time. She would not give up and suppress it. This single memory of Beni haunted her with such ferocity that it blocked out all others. Sitting on the cold floor with her eyes closed, she allowed the image to take hold of her again. Mari imagined her fingers in front of her – from both the hand she still had and the hand she had lost – and pictured touching his cold, destroyed face.
Gently, her fingers felt their way deep into the empty eye socket and her palm cupped his flaking cheek. She was looking at a monster through the eyes of one. Willing the warmth from her fingertips into his skin, she pushed and pushed, harder and harder, until her mind filled out his flesh and brought back the colour to his eyes and his hair.
At first, he was blurry, rather a morphing cluster of what she remembered to be his features. But she kept willing him to form. His humanity rose in him, all the way to the tips of his lashes, and the familiar harmony of his face filled her vision. His spark returned, and he caught her with his deep brown eyes.
“It’s you,” Mari cried. “You’re back!” The tears that had welled in her eyes burst and streamed into the corners of her smile.
The doctor and the two guards stood frozen with apprehension. All three were waiting for her episode to pass. She closed her eyes again, relieved to see Beni’s perfect, smiling face with a questioning twinkle in his eye. Dressed in a black suit, he was now standing in the bedroom door of their home in Palermo, Italy. He was stunning. Mari laughed out loud, realising this was a memory of her last birthday they shared. It was two weeks before they flew to Australia for her sister's wedding. They never made it home.
In the memory, she had fallen asleep across the bed, fully clothed in her black heels and her green silk dress. They were going to see an opera at the Massimo. Mari chuckled through her tears as she remembered Beni lovingly shaking her ankle to wake her.
“Sei pronta?” Beni teased.
Sono Pronta. Mari spoke the words out loud, “I’m ready.”
Opening her eyes again, she regained her focus on the room. Her gaze was met by Doctor Vaughn’s concerned face, and she smiled.
“If you want my blood, you can have every drop of it,” Mari said, “but I won’t be fighting anymore.”
The doctor inched toward her, but he wasn't quick enough. Her hand was already resting on her ankle. It was a simple manoeuvre to lift the leg of her jeans and unsheathe the small blade strapped to her calf. Mari raised her chin high and brought the blade up to her neck. He lunged at her with his arms outstretched. The two guards moved in closely behind him. The speed at which the three men appeared right in front her was so threatening that it forced her hand. Before she could feel the fear or grow the resistance, it was done.
Mari instinctively tried to shake her head, her last message for this world being, no. But the slightest movement was agonising and her head wouldn’t budge. Instead, tears of acceptance trickled down her cheeks as a curtain of blood washed down her neck and chest.
The doctor wrapped his hands around her neck to save the blood. “Why? Why! Why did you do this?” He turned angrily on the guards. “Who screened her? How did this get through?”
But Mari couldn’t help them. She couldn’t even see them now. Her lips formed a smile once more. For Beni.
****
Further reading...
Marietta is an Italian name meaning 'little rebel.'
The camp is set in a jail called J Ward in Ararat, Victoria, Australia. It was once used for the criminally insane and is now a museum.
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Cam and Nina are not dead. They deliberately disappeared. :)
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I hope you enjoyed TURNING. If you would like to stay in the loop, please drop by the blog turningthenovella.blogspot.com.au and say hello!
About The Author...
Melinda Chapman lives in the seaside town of Anglesea in Victoria, Australia. Originally from Melbourne, she's a digital artist and illustrator by trade with a background in the computer games industry. TURNING is the result of her love for stories that portray deep human experiences within paranormal, fantasy, or sci-fi worlds.
For the occasional chirp, you can join @Melinda_Chapman on Twitter.
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