by Emma Slate
I’m hungry.
No comment from Thane as he perched on top of a couch cushion to better see the TV screen.
Are you hungry? Do you eat?
Yes, Poppy, I eat, he snapped in irritation.
Ah, he speaks…or thinks, as it were.
A glimmer of humor peeked its way through the dark void.
You can’t stay mad at me, I teased.
I’m not mad at you, Poppy. Just…never mind.
No. Not this time. Talk to me.
I am talking to you.
You know what I mean.
I’m jealous, all right?
Because I’m with someone? And you and I can’t be together due to the fact that we are different species…
No. I mean, yes, of course. But I’m jealous that he makes you light up in a way that I can’t.
I didn’t really know what to do with that.
What would you do if I were human?
But you’re not, I pointed out.
Humor me. Would you give me a chance?
I don’t know. What do you look like? I teased.
You wouldn’t be disappointed. I’ll leave it at that.
Well, considering this is all speculation, yeah, Thane, I’d give you a chance. This was weird, even for Thane, and I desperately wanted to talk about something else. So, what do you eat?
I’m a spider. What do you think?
Walked right into that one, didn’t I?
The lights flickered a few times and then winked out. The TV made a noise and then went black. A flash of lightning lit up the living room, making Thane’s black eyes glow. Even I wasn’t immune to the fear factor and let out an involuntary squeak.
“Sorry,” I said, pressing a hand to my racing heart. “Didn’t mean—just, sorry.”
Guess you are only human, he thought in humor.
I mentally harrumphed at him.
It’s only eight, Thane stated. It’s too early for bed.
We can watch Netflix on my computer until the battery dies. I reached for my closed laptop on the coffee table.
After another hour, my eyes struggled to remain open. I sprawled out on the couch and nestled my head on a couch pillow. I was asleep in an instant.
I dreamed of wasps. A swarm descended, landing on my skin, stinging me over and over. I cried out in my sleep, trying to wake up, but like in so many nightmares, I couldn’t seem to open my eyes.
Poppy.
Thane!
Open your eyes, Poppy.
I can’t. The pain—
OPEN YOUR EYES.
My eyes flew open, encountering darkness. The storm continued to unleash its fury; the sound of it was loud in my ears. A wave of nausea hit me hard and fast. I turned my head and threw up. Shakily, I leaned back down but refused to close my eyes. I was terrified of what would happen if I fell back asleep.
Why had my nightmare felt so real?
I ran a hand across my arms. Phantom dream-pain lingered on my skin, causing me to cry out in discomfort.
Thane?
Here. On the couch cushion.
I lifted my hand and rested it on the couch cushion. A moment later, I felt the brush of Thane’s legs against my palm. I brought him to my chest and let him rest there. A friendly cat would’ve been better in this situation, but I settled for the unique spider who had a way of calming me down by just being there for me. Maybe I was crazy, maybe I wasn’t, but in that moment I knew true comfort.
I wished Hunter was with me. I wanted to feel the warmth of him, knowing I could fall asleep. Safe. He would stop the nightmares—just like he’d stopped the sleepwalking.
Are you awake? Thane asked.
Yes.
My skin still stung, but when I ran my hand along my arm, I encountered nothing but smoothness. Those wasp stings had felt real. Too real. But that was my problem, wasn’t it?
At this moment in my life, I didn’t know what was truth and what was imagination.
I didn’t fall asleep until dawn.
I thought I knew insanity when I began to communicate with a spider. Turned out, that level of insanity had nothing on the past four days. Every time I fell asleep, the wasps were there, stinging me, numbing me into submission. And every time, Thane’s voice was in my head, urging me to wake up.
I hadn’t been taking the sleeping pills because I’d been worried that I wouldn’t be able to wake up from the nightmares. But now, it was getting to the point where I wasn’t even functioning properly. I wasn’t sure I had a choice anymore.
Wrung out and exhausted, I wondered if I’d ever sleep normally again. I missed Hunter. Our conversations were brief and scattered, and I didn’t mention my nightmares to him. He was busy in North Carolina.
It was the middle of the afternoon and I could barely stay awake. My eyelids drooped, but I forced them open. I dropped my pencil and reached for my tepid mug of herbal tea. No caffeine for me. My nerves were already fried.
Thane sat on the kitchen table, one of his legs gently pawing the paper I was drawing on. My cell phone buzzed causing me to jump and spill tea all over the sketch I was doing of Thane. Sighing, I answered the phone and forced a jovial tone.
“How’s Connecticut?” I asked.
“Gorgeous,” Anita breathed. “A bit cold, though. Jonah and I are walking through the woods by his house right now.”
I heard Jonah say something in the background and then Anita replied, “Thanks.” To me she said, “Sorry, I almost stepped in a hole.”
“Are you wearing hiking boots?” I teased.
“Hell no! I’m wearing tennis shoes. Which is why Jonah is worried about me twisting my ankle. I should probably get off the phone, but I just wanted to call and see how you were.”
“You’re asking if I’ve been a shut in.”
“Maybe. Have you?”
“No. I’ve been going out.”
“At night?” she asked with hope.
“No. Not at night.” I glanced at Thane. “Hunter’s out of town. You’re out of town. Who would I go out with?”
“I don’t know. Other friends? Science geeks?”
“Good bye, Anita.”
She laughed. “Bye! See you in a few days.”
We hung up and then I cleaned up the tea spill. I was feeling antsy, like I wanted to move, wanted to do something, but I didn’t have the energy.
Would it be terrible if I took half a sleeping pill in the middle of the day and just tried to sleep?
Are you looking for permission or understanding?
I snorted. I’m an adult. And it’s Spring Break. If I want to sleep in the middle of the day, then I should be able to sleep in the middle of the day.
Without any further input or thought, I cut a sleeping pill in half and swallowed it.
Chapter 26
I sank into oblivion—and it wasn’t an exaggeration. People said that all the time for effect, but I really did. I went some place, some dark place, where there was nothing…just a void.
Blackness.
I felt weightless, my mind detached from my body.
There was…nothing.
Was this what dying felt like?
Were we all just here one moment and gone the next?
I heard a faint, musical buzzing. The sound drew closer. Something came into view…a golden blur. Mechanical golden wings chimed every time they flapped.
A golden, robotic wasp flew toward me and hovered right in front of my nose. It screeched and then was silent, except for the chiming of its beating wings.
A moment later, the pealing of wings turned into a cacophony as a golden wave of robotic wasps swirled out of the darkness.
The wave came at me.
Fear filled my stomach and I opened my lips to scream…
An army of shiny onyx-colored mechanical spiders poured from my mouth.
They all resembled Thane.
A sea of black crashed into gold. Metal scraped against metal. The sound reverberated in my brain and rattled my teeth.
Something else inside of me wanted to escape, so I opened my lips again.
Wispy, white music notes flew out of my mouth. They hovered in the air and began to change. Slowly at first and then all at once. The notes flattened and turned into silky threads. They wove together to become a dewy spider web that gently floated down over black and gold insect bodies.
The wasps were trapped, their golden wings entangling in the web. Black spiders stepped across the web, crushing the golden wasps beneath their many legs as they walked toward me.
Flapping wings stilled and then the wasps were silent.
The army of spiders surrounded me, but I wasn’t afraid.
Their front legs stretched out as their black shiny bodies rose in the air.
They were bowing to me.
I tilted my head and bowed back.
Poppy…Thane whispered.
I’m here…somewhere.
Danger, Poppy. Danger is still coming.
Chapter 27
I woke up in a cold, quiet room. My eyes flipped open to a white ceiling with fluorescent lights above me. My brain seemed foggy and I couldn’t figure out where I was.
The soft sound of approaching footsteps hit my ears.
I moved to sit up only to find I couldn’t.
“Poppy? Poppy, can you hear me?”
A face swam into focus—female—and someone I didn’t recognize. She had brown eyes, gray hair, and wore a white coat a few shades brighter than the stark white walls of the room I was in.
She reached into her jacket and pulled out a light. With a click, she turned it on and shined it into my eyes.
I shrank back and attempted to move my arms. They refused to budge. I tugged harder, feeling panic well up inside me.
“Easy,” she said in a soothing tone.
I wanted to throw something at her.
My limbs wouldn’t budge because they were bound.
“Poppy, listen to me. You’re at MUSC.”
My mouth was too dry to speak.
The doctor recognized my struggle to talk, went to the bedside table, and poured a cup of water from the blue plastic pitcher. She had to hold the straw in the cup to my lips because I was restrained.
Restrained.
Like a mental patient.
After a few swallows, I turned my head, signaling I was finished. She set the cup down and then drew up a chair to my bedside. “Do you know what day it is?”
I didn’t answer.
“It’s Tuesday, and you’ve been here since Saturday.”
“Saturday?” I whispered. There was only blankness in my mind. Four days of nothing. “How did I get here? Why am I here?” I looked down at my wrists. “Why am I tied up?”
The doctor looked like she was debating what to say for a moment before deciding to answer. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
I thought back as far as I could. “I think I was having trouble sleeping. I took half a sleeping pill I was prescribed…but it couldn’t have knocked me out for days though, could it?”
“That’s doubtful.” She leaned over and rested her elbows on her knees, her eyes on mine. “Poppy, your cousin came home a few days ago and found you in an altered mental state.”
I frowned. “Altered? What does that mean?”
She took a steady breath. “You were singing.”
“Singing?”
“In your sleep. Singing something completely nonsensical.”
“People talk in their sleep all the time,” I protested, “but they’re not taken to the hospital and—” I looked at my wrists.
“She was worried for your safety. She says you haven’t been sleeping and you haven’t been acting like yourself. You’re here because she couldn’t wake you, Poppy—”
“How did I get here?”
“She and her boyfriend brought you to the hospital—”
Boyfriend.
“I need to call my boyfriend, Hunter,” I said. Panic surged inside of me again.
“Your cousin has already called him,” she assured me. “But I think it’s best if you rest now.”
“I don’t want to rest!” I yelled, fighting against the restraints. “I want to get out of here! I want to go home!”
The doctor called for a nurse, and a moment later a plump brunette came into the room. She injected something into my IV and a few moments later, lethargy settled over my body.
My senses went foggy, words faded to a dull murmur around me, and my eyes drifted shut.
Oblivion came once again.
While I was asleep, the sun had shifted in the sky and was leaking dying rays through the blinds of the hospital window.
I swallowed a few times, trying to coat my dry, chalky mouth.
My eyes ached, like I’d been staring at a computer screen for hours. Which was strange considering I’d been passed out for who knew how long?
“Do you want some water?”
I turned my head to see Anita rise from the chair next to my bed and reach for the pitcher. She didn’t wait for me to say yes or nod. I doubted I had the energy to do either of those things anyway.
She brought the straw to my lips, and I drank greedily, not stopping until I’d finished every last drop. When I was done, I leaned my head back against the pillow.
“More?” she asked.
“No,” I croaked.
The back of my neck felt sticky with dried sweat, and I suddenly had the urge to run my fingers through my hair. But I couldn’t because my wrists were still bound.
“How are you feeling?” Anita asked, working her bottom lip through her teeth.
“Betrayed.”
She flinched, her eyes dropping. “Poppy—”
“Get. Out.” I spoke through a clenched jaw, trying not to yell, trying to remain calm, trying to play the game so they’d let me out of this fucking place.
“Poppy, I’m sorry. But you were singing and the walls were covered in—”
I turned my head away from her and closed my eyes, shutting her out.
“I called your mom.”
“Of course you did.”
“Poppy, I—I know how you feel about her. But I thought if anyone could help you, she could.”
I glanced at Anita. Her blond hair was a mess and her face was devoid of makeup. She looked so unlike her usual polished self.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “You thought you were doing what was best for me? You, who grew up with two parents who stayed together because your mom wasn’t the sick twin?” I closed my eyes, willing her away.
“When are you going to stop blaming me for something I can’t control?”
I laughed, but it was bitter and sharp. Staring her down, I clenched my fists and struggled against the restraints. “Don’t talk to me about control.” I shook my head, which caused it to throb. “Just get out. I don’t want to see you.”
Closing my eyes, I turned my head away again. After a moment, I heard her shuffle toward the door and then nothing.
Thane? Thane, are you there? I’m trapped.
There was no answer.
I wondered if the drugs in my system dulled our connection. I wondered if I’d been hallucinating everything. I wondered if I was as crazy as they were leading me to believe.
Thane? If you’re there, and you can hear me, please…
Please, what? I was begging a spider to help me. Help me how?
Maybe the hospital was the safest place for me.
I heard the door creak open and I pretended to be asleep. I didn’t want to deal with the doctor or talk to the nurse.
No engagement. Otherwise they’d win.
Or had I already lost?
“Poppy,” a deep voice whispered.
My eyes flew open. In the weak, dying light of the day, I saw a pair of familiar blue eyes.
“What are you doing here?”
Chapter 28
My father took a seat in the white plastic chair next to my bed. While he settled himself, I took a moment to
study him. In the three years since I’d last seen my father, he hadn’t changed much. His hair was still thick, though now it was more gray than black. It used to be salt and pepper. The lines around his eyes were deeper, the paunch around his middle just a little bigger.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked him.
“Your mother called me.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
He frowned. “You’re my daughter. And you’re in the hospital. Of course I had to come.”
“Where were you when I was fourteen?”
“Poppy—”
“Save it,” I lashed out. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”
“You’re right.” He nodded. “Nothing I can say will make up for the past. But I’m here now.”
“I don’t need you,” I seethed. Despite my anger, the sadness on my father’s stricken face nearly had me in tears. But I couldn’t worry about his feelings. I had to worry about my own because no one else would.
When would I learn?
My father had walked out on us. He’d left our family, leaving my mother and me devastated.
Crippled.
Alone.
“I’m just like her,” I said to him. “And you didn’t want her—even though she tried to get better. You weren’t there for her. You left her when she needed you the most.”
“I asked him to leave,” my mother said from the doorway of the hospital room.
I’d been so busy berating my father that I hadn’t heard her come in. She moved into the room and stood next to him. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun, and her green eyes glittered with understanding. It was odd to see her still and calm. Usually she couldn’t stop moving. My father used to say he loved her endless energy.
At what point had the trait he’d once loved become a huge annoyance?
My parents exchanged a look. “Maybe I should wait outside,” my father said, rising. He touched my mother’s shoulder on his way to the door. It didn’t seem forced or uncomfortable between them. Had I been seeing my parents through the eyes of a child? Was it time to stop?
“How are you feeling, Poppy?” Mom asked, taking the newly vacated chair.