The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon

by Amy Lunderman

  “Chance, is she breathing?” Is that…Mellissa? “You have to be certain if you want to save her.”

  The hand on my cheek moves down so that it’s placed flat against my chest. I urge it to move so that he knows that I’m still here, but it remains immobile. I scream and thrash from the darkness inside myself, but he doesn’t hear me. His hand clenches around the fabric of my clothes and his body quivers around me. I think he might be crying. I silently and uselessly call out for him again.

  Mellissa sighs. “Chance, I know this is horrible and unfair, but I need you to focus right now. Daria needs you to focus. What you have to do right now is to take the knife out of her. If there is a remote possibility that you can heal her, then it has to come out. But hurry and be gentle.”

  The knife?

  Oh. It must still be inside me. I forgot about that.

  “I don’t know if I can.” Chance whispers. “She’s so cold mom…what if…”

  “You can’t think like that Chance. If you’re the one meant to protect the Paragon, then everything will be all right. But you have to get the knife out fast before it’s too late. You can do it, I have faith in you.”

  Chance eases us up into a sitting position and gently places me down across the seat. The warmth and weight of him disappears for a moment, but I hear him stretching out before me between the seats. I feel his hands hovering over me before they are placed on my stomach. Seconds are I feel him warmth, all I feel is the striking pain of him being so close to my wound. He moves his hands so that he cups the knife that is sheathed inside my body. They slid up so that his touch fades and I know he’s gripping the blades handle. I can almost feel him tense right before he deftly pulls it free.

  He and I cry out at the same time, him in tortured agony and me in suffering silence.

  There is a tinkering clatter sound and then Chance’s hands are back on me. They press on the hole the knife once lived. That’s when I realize I actually have enough blood left in me to seep out. If I concentrate enough, I can feel it sliding out and moving through his fingers, like a caress, as if I’m able to finally return his touch.

  “Mom, she’s really bleeding back here. What do I do? Oh God…what do I do, what do I do…oh God, please!”

  “It’s all right, trust me. It’s good she’s bleeding; it means we’re not too late. What I need you to do is really focus, do you understand, you have to focus on what you want. Force the want to save her. Heal her.”

  “What! I don’t understand. I can’t-”

  “Dammit Chance, yes you can. It’s the way of the Keepers. If this is your destiny, then you have it in you to save her. All you have to do is try and push it.”

  Chance cries out for me and hunches over my body. His hands press so tight to my stomach that it feels like he’s trying to climb inside me. Sobbing convulsions grip him and hold him even closer to me. Oddly, I don’t mind leaving right now. With him so close it feels like I’m given an opportunity to have my goodbye. I only wish it wasn’t goodbye. But I know it is. There is no saving me, I’ve held on long enough. The pain that I’ve been trying to ignore starts to fade and in its place is a comforting numbness. I feel my spirit beginning to float upward and trying to extend itself from the body.

  But then something keeps me locked in.

  A warmth seeps from Chance’s hands that cling to me. It feels like the heat that only comes out during the summer at mid-day, full of life and possibility. His hand twitches as it spreads to my wound and moves inside me. Then the warmth transforms into searching tendrils of burning ecstasy that flexes its great hand outward. It pulls at me, at my everything, seeking to guide and heal. Everywhere is caresses I feel myself becoming whole again. I feel the flesh of my stomach slowly closing, the muscle beneath sticking back together, and fresh warm blood filling and spreading all throughout me until it reaches my still heart.

  At the first life inflicting pump, my chest moves the slightest bit.

  Chance flinches above me, his convulsions pause and he goes silent. With the next beat of my heart, my lungs fill with an intoxicating breath that hurts as much as it is pleasurable. My chest rises and my dry lips part. A faint gasp of air escapes me. It causes Chance to jerk up off me, but not his hands, no they remain pressed on me as if we’re molded.

  “Holy Shit.” Chance laughs. “Rabbit?”

  I want to call out to him that yes, I think he did whatever it was that he did, and that I’m going to be all right. But no words come to me yet. I’m not finished. The radiating warmth circulates through me in a spinning cycle of new life. The numbness that held me slips away and I snap back into the sensations of being alive. There is no pain, only the truth that I won’t be dying today. As fast as it came, the warmth vanishes. The pressure of Chance’s hands on me eases and we become separate entities again.

  I open my eyes then.

  The first things I see are Chance’s crystal clear blue eyes. And they are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It makes me smile up at him. He healed me. How, I don’t know, and I don’t think I care. All I know is that he brought me back from the brink I never want to go on ever again. This is sure to change things. I can feel it. Something different within me, within him, making us connected in a way we weren’t before. But it doesn’t scare me. It comforts me.

  Chance’s hands find my cheeks and moves in close. “Are you really real?”

  I want to laugh at his whispering shock, but I don’t. It’s a valid question. Am I real? I think he made it possible that I am. So I nod. This makes him smile, his eyes shining so bright.

  “You saved me.” I try to say, but it comes out as nothing more than a hoarse whisper that dissolves into a cough. My throat is so incredibly dry; it feels like I’ve been on a dessert for months without an ounce of water.

  Chance’s eyes widen in alarm as he wraps his arms around me and lifts me up into a sitting position in one swoop. The sudden movement makes me gasp, but not from pain. More like a rush of tingles that come when you’ve been sitting for a while and need time to adjust. But the new position does clear the frog that seemed to take residence in my lungs. I can’t believe it.

  I’m really alive right now.

  I turn to Chance in awe. “You saved me.”

  He kisses me then.

  ***

  Getting the edge of shirt tight in my hands, I slow raise it up so that my skin is exposed. I clench my eyes shut before I can peak. Instead, I take a calming breath that really has no effect. It’s now or never. There is nothing to be afraid of. It’s just my body. I’ve had the thing for years. Nothing bad has ever come from looking at it. I force myself to stand straight and tall, squaring my shoulders. Only then do I open my eyes.

  And face my startled and wary reflection.

  I see my dark eyes that appear too black to be normal and my hair that is just as dark as it hangs loose and long down my back. My gaze wanders down so that I’m just about to see my exposed flesh and for a moment I stop before looking. I’m afraid at what I’ll see. But I have to know. So I finally look and when I do, a gasp escapes me. There is nothing to see, no marks or scars, just my flat stomach. For all intents and purposes, it appears as if nothing has ever happened.

  But I know the truth.

  Slipping one hand free, I spread it wide across my abdomen. To the right of my bellybutton is where I was stabbed from the back the first time and a little further up to the left is where I was stabbed for the second time. And right where my hand rests is where both of Chance’s lie when he healed me. I twist slightly so that I can see my back and with both hands I inch the hem of my shirt up. This too is smooth.

  My shirt falls down as I drop my arms to my sides.

  I step up to the mirror as close as I can without having to climb my dresser. My hands seek refuge and a little balance from the top as I stare at myself. I still can’t get yesterday out of my head, any of it. I can still feel the pain of the knife sliding in me, the shock of finding out Toby was my stalker, t
he knowledge that he was going to kill me, and the fact that I killed him first before he could succeed. There was a moment before I was lost that I could have sworn that I failed on that last one, but I must have been hallucinating, because I’m still here.

  Everything is different now and not just because of what I did. Though that I’m sure will hit me when I least expect it to. But things with Chance are complicated. Everything happened so fast - but there are some things that I recall overhearing - important things about Paragons and Keepers. And then there is Mellissa. She is the one that spoke of these things, the one that knew what Chance could do before he did. Clearly, I’ve been seeking answers from all the wrong people.

  I’d hate to think that everything that went down the last couple of months could have been avoided.

  If only I’d been paying better attention.

  It’s the little things that stick out to me now. Like how easily Mellissa accepted a homeless girl, me, to move in to her garage apartment with no questions asked. Or even some of the strange looks I’ve been getting so often lately. And here I thought she was just offended that I was dating her son. Turns out she knew what I was the moment she saw me. I seriously need to work on my observation skills, because I kind of suck.

  On the drive back yesterday, I think I was in shock and so were Chance and Mellissa. None of us knew exactly what to do besides being overwhelmed with the impossible. Or maybe that was just me. Mellissa did make a pretty quick escape once we got home. There was something in her expression that told me we’d be having a talk soon. And I hope we do. It’s needed. The Paragon she mentioned just might be me I think. As for the Keeper? I think that might have been referenced to what Chance is to me.

  That’s where the complication sets in.

  From the moment Chance pressed his hands on me and gave me my life back, I’ve felt something shift within me. I don’t know what it is, but I know it connects me to him in some way. Whether that’s a good or bad thing, I just don’t know. He’d see it as a good thing I’m sure, in fact I think he already does, if the way he couldn’t take his eyes off me is any indication. It took me a while to get him to go home so I could decompress. The only way I could get him to leave was by telling him I was tired and needed sleep. When in all reality, I haven’t sleep in over twenty four hours, and I’m still not tired.

  That kind of worries me.

  What takes worry and turns it into a live rocket ready to launch into space?

  Well…if I let myself really concentrate, I can feel Chance.

  I know without a doubt, that at this very moment, he’s slipping on a jacket and pulling open his front door. His heart is racing in anticipation of where he’s going. His palms are sweating, but it doesn’t stop him. He all but runs to the garage door and yanks it open. I can hear the bang of it from here as it slips from his hold and connects with the wall. He doesn’t fix it. Instead I have a double sense of feeling and hearing him climbing the steps two at a time. He comes to a stop at my door, trying to catch his breath.

  Somehow while I was connected to him, I’ve wandered to my door without realizing it. My chest rises and falls in unison to his on the other side. My pulse quickens as his does. I know he can feel me too. My feet carry me inches from the door and I press into it. Hands flat against the cold surface, face turned and eyes closed. I feel him move and do the same. At this moment, there is no door standing between us, we simply just are; one.

  Chills rush along my skin as warmth spreads within me. It’s familiar. A heat like the sunshine on a mid-summers day fills me at my core. My soul answers its call. And for the first time my ability comes to me without my having to reach for it. It’s just suddenly there. Vibrating like a churning living and breathing fog that sends tendrils of static electricity to the tips of my fingers and toes. The rush of it sends every hair on me to stand at attention.

  There is a pulling sensation at my center that has me flatten completely against the door. But it’s not the door I feel. It’s Chance. His breath becomes my breath. His heart beat becomes my heart beat. We become one in every way. But then the pull I feel transforms into something stronger, better and with a jolt it jumps back to me. The purist sensation of ecstasy fills me completely and the power of it sends me rocking back from the door.

  The connection to Chance snaps free.

  In the next instant all the power leaves me in a whoosh just as he’s pulling the door open.

  Then he’s suddenly standing right before me. “What was that?”

  Sweet. Baby. Jesus.

  What was that indeed?

  For a moment there, I think I might have been feeding off of him.

  Now that’s complicated.

  After giving each other a weirdly heated stare down, we were able to break away long enough to settle on the couch. At opposite ends - intently watching one another - waiting for the connection to sneak back up to us. Or at least that’s what I was waiting for. I think Chance kind of wanted it to happen again. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not kind of creepy. There’s something fundamentally wrong with being connected so deeply to someone, especially if you already know what that person tastes and feels like. To be able to sense him, it’s like we’re no longer separate people.

  And that scares me.

  I’m a parasitic demon and Chance is something else entirely. So where does that leave us if we blended?

  Am I hurting or helping? “Tell me exactly what you felt just now.”

  Chance jumps at my voice. Looks away with a half laugh and rubs at the base of his neck.

  “Honestly?” His eyes catch mine. “I could have sworn that I felt you through the door. It was like we were the same person for a second there. Then there was this intense heat that poured through the door and crashed into me. In one swoosh, it seemed like I wasn’t even in my body anymore, I was in yours.”

  My eyes go wide and I can’t help but to notice the faint pink that coats his cheeks.

  I glance down at my lap. “Did it hurt?”

  “No, not at all, it felt great actually. I didn’t want it to ever stop.” He scoots closer, drawing my eyes back to him. “What’s going on Daria? Why do you sound so freaked? This is weird yes, but it’s also kind of awesome.”

  That’s not what I wanted to hear.

  My hands rise up to stop him from getting closer. He stops and cocks his head to the side, hurt flashing.

  “You remember when I told you what I was right? I’m like a super sucking parasite. What if you felt me…draining you or something? That would be bad Chance. Very bad.”

  “I would know if that happened.”

  “Would you, really? Because it sounds like to me that’s what happened. That was my ability you felt through the door Chance. It surged up in me differently than normal and I felt…”

  I stop. What did I feel?

  Chance must see something written on my expression that I don’t even know, because he’s suddenly right beside me. He’s so close I can feel his heart beating as if it were my own. It takes everything to not flinch.

  When he reaches out for me I do finch. “Rabbit. Don’t do that please. You can’t just shut me out like that. I know what you’re thinking.” He laughs when I flinch again. “Not literally you goof, but because I can only imagine what’s going on in your head. You’re thinking that what we’re feeling is bad because you’re afraid of hurting me. Am I right?”

  I sigh. “Well, yeah. I did you hurt you. And it happened in such a way that you liked it and would probably let me do it again if I wanted. That’s bad Chance. There’s a lot I still don’t know about what could happen if I did what I’m meant to. What if I killed you?”

  Chance sits back with a laugh. His eyes are literally sparkling. I kind of want to hit him.

  It’s not funny. “Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny Chance Harris. You could seriously get hurt and it would be my fault.”

  “Call me crazy, but I don’t think you cou
ld hurt me. If yesterday is any indication then I think there is more to me than meets the eye. I healed you. That makes me more than the average regular Joe.”

  I eye him warily. “Yes, you did heal me. But who’s going to heal you when I drain you like that again? I think we need to put some space between us until I can figure out what’s going on exactly.”

  “What?” He shakes his head. “No way, don’t even try to pull that one on me. I’m trying to tell you I’m fine here. There was no sucking going on, I feel fine. We don’t need space rabbit, what we need is to work together to figure it all out. I mean my mom has the answers we need, all we have to do is ask.”

  “Don’t you get it Chance?” I wrap my arms around my middle and squeeze. “I was trying to avoid this until later, but you should know who it was that has been stalking me and tried to kill me yesterday. Don’t look at me like that either, I have my reasons. It’s was Toby, Chance. He’s the one that has been weeding me out for the opportunity to kill me. No, actually, not just kill me. Apparently he was going to steal my soul and use it for himself.”

  “…Toby? As in the dude that has been harboring a crush on you send I introduced you? Glasses wearing, sub shop working Toby? I…” He shakes his head and sighs.

  “I know. Trust me, I know.” Now I sigh. “And that’s not even the worst part. Because the only reason he didn’t get to finish the job, was that I, I beat him to it.” I start to shake. “I killed him before he could kill me.”

  “In self-defense rabbit, yeah, it’s not like you did intentionally.”

  “But that’s just it Chance.” I squeeze my middle tighter. “I could have stopped if I wanted. I could have just stunted him so that I had the opportunity to get away. But I didn’t. I held on until he caught on fire. The only reason I even let go was to get away from the fire in the store. There is no telling what I would have done if that didn’t happen. I wanted him to suffer. That’s not normal Chance. I’m not normal.”