We cross the back gate to the campus and pass a few University buildings. Amy explains where we should go first so I can sort out all the paperwork for the modules. Physically and mentally I am not well at all, the growing pulsing pain in my stomach is more than uncomfortable. The American Studies department is situated in the James Callaghan building, as Amy explains. We arrive on the third floor and pass through to reception; I am by now feeling very dizzy and sick. The reception area is small and we have to wait until a few more people leave before we can speak with the secretary. Her name is Mrs Lawrence, which I read from the sign on the door.
‘How may I help you?’ she asks, not lifting her gaze off the laptop, looking slightly irritated. She is wearing large thick glasses. I am just about to explain why I am here when I notice someone else in the office that I haven't seen before. Tall dark haired man with bright olive eyes glances at me, then to Amy. I know instantly that he doesn’t fit here, he is too perfect to be a normal human being. The cold shiver travels through my body. I am 100 percent sure when we walked in there was no one in the room apart from the secretary and the other students. I suddenly feel dizzy and the uncomfortable pulsing pain in my stomach shifts; I decide to ignore him and keep repeating to myself that he isn't really there.
‘How can I help you?’ repeats Mrs Lawrence more abruptly, finally lifting her eyes to look at me. I breathe deeply and the uneasy sensation passes.
‘I need to choose my modules,’ I say finally, my voice shaky and unnatural. The woman is staring at me in silence for a moment, narrowing her amber eyes.
‘You’re too late, there are hardly any spaces left in any American Studies modules for a first year,’ she answers, taking her eyes off me and making herself busy with papers. The perfect individual is looking directly at me but I am doing everything I can to ignore him. Mrs Lawrence looks at the computer screen as if she has nothing else to say to me.
‘I am sure there has to be something that you can do,’ I add quietly, feeling that I have lost this battle already.
‘The deadline already passed, my dear. You have to speak with your personal tutor to see what you can do now.’
I am wasting my time here; this woman obviously is not going to help me. I am not sure if I am ready for University life as the strange man in the room is proof that I am clearly suffering from some kind of mental health problems. Amy steps in, as I am just about to give up and leave.
‘Excuse me, but my friend here was stabbed down at the beach a few weeks ago. I think you might bend the rules due to the circumstances. It isn’t her fault that she was attacked.’
I thank Amy in my mind, because the secretary instantly changes her expression and looks at me with compassion.
‘You are that poor girl who was attacked?’ she asks with interest. I nod, feeling the blush on my cheeks. ‘Of course, you were in the hospital so you couldn't enrol like the other students.’
Amy is nodding with me, agreeing with what the secretary says. I am glad that I am finally getting somewhere but I want to get the hell out of this room as soon as possible. I am feeling dizzier and trying everything in my power not to faint in front of them. The tall man in the corner of the room is freaking me out and I attempt to smile as Mrs Lawrence gets up and walks to the other desk to get some papers. It takes her a while to find the right forms and during this whole time, Amy and Mrs Lawrence seem to have no idea that there is someone else in the room.
‘Well, let's see,’ she begins, staring at the computer screen. ‘Four modules are compulsory; you have to have a total of 120 credits.’
Her words reach me but my mind is blank. The room starts to spin and I am sure that I am going to faint soon.
‘I’ll take the same as you,’ I say quickly, looking at Amy who looks bored, yawning in the corner. ‘Can you tell Mrs Lawrence what you have chosen please? I have to go to the toilet.’ I leave the reception without waiting for a reply from any of them.
‘She seems very stressed. That kind of trauma could have an effect on her forever.’
Unfortunately, I overhear the last sentence and I have to take a few deep breaths to try and defuse the heavy feeling in my stomach. The ball of sweat rolls through my cheek and my heart is pounding in my chest. My wound is hurting and I feel officially crazy. My problems seem to be building up. I leave the room out onto the hall way and the corridor is empty. I find the toilet easily and I vomit the entire contents of my stomach until I feel empty.
After catching my breath I roll on the floor. I feel as though I am falling apart. A daunting feeling of fear surrounds me. I rinse my face under the cold water and look in the mirror; the face staring back at me looks tired and stressed. I have never in my life been so pale.
I scream, realising that I see another face in the mirror apart from my own reflection. I turn around, horrified, and the handsome individual from my dream is standing right in front of me. For the first time, I can see him so clearly and so close to me. If I reach out my hand, I can touch him and then I would be sure if I really am crazy and imagining it or if he exists for real. But I can't move and I stop breathing. He is just staring at me with his astonishing azure eyes and my whole body tenses while my heartbeat starts to thumps. He appears to be surprised and shocked and for the first time in my life I have to look up at a man taller than me. This is the opportunity that I had been waiting for, to discover if the line between reality and delusion could actually be crossed.
‘Who are you and why are you following me?’ I try to sound serious but my tone is too husky.
He looks alarmed, he parts his lips but he doesn’t responds. His eyes are so striking and I have to look away but I feel as I am hypnotised by him. I have never seen anyone so beautiful in my entire life. We stare at each other for a long while as time stops and life ceases to exist around me. I lose the sense of reality and close my eyes, trying to concentrate on something positive and keep telling to myself that this is only my imagination. When I open my eyes again the toilet is empty and he has vanished. I exhale finally and inhale the thick air saturated with my own sweat. I sit down on the floor and realise that there is a piece of paper in front of me. I take the paper and unfold it.
Getting rid of a delusion makes us wiser than getting hold of a truth.
Don't be afraid of what you see, we are here to help you but pretend that we don't exist.
I blink and read again to make sure that I’ve digested the information. An icy shiver pierces through me. This message doesn’t explain anything, but it's obviously addressed to me. I have to pretend that the odd people who I keep seeing do not exist; I get up and put the piece of paper in my pocket, hoping that he will appear again so I can punch him. I can picture this scene in my mind. Once again, I rinse my face and leave the toilet. Maybe I am crazy and soon I will have to explain what is happening to Dr Roberts but at this point I just don't care anymore. The guy surely wants something from me, he is following me around and he left me this message. What the hell does he want?
4
When I walk back to the reception, Amy is waiting for me in the corridor. I have tried to compose myself, but I always been a terrible actress.
‘All done now, Ania, you are officially enrolled,’ she says cheerfully, giving me some papers. I look nervously around, but I don’t spot anyone bizarre in the corridor.
‘Thank you so much for that. I really appreciate it.’
‘No problem, the only thing we have to do is an introduction to War Studies because all the other modules were taken. I don't really want to enrol in this module as it sounds boring but we haven't got any other choice’’ she explains.
‘Great,’ I say in a flat tone, staring at the rest of Amy's choices, which look pretty good. Talking about the modules selection is the last thing on my mind.
‘Now we have to go to the library to get your card,’ says Amy.
‘Do we have to do this today?’
I want to get my library card but I am too exhausted and know I woul
dn’t be able to cope with any more hallucinations today. I am still trying to convince myself that everything that is happening will stop eventually. However, I can't forget the exhilarating blue eyes, even though he is only in my imagination. He is too perfect to be real. Deep down, I am furious that I was not able to do anything when he was standing in front of me.
‘No, we don't have to do this today,’ Amy replies. ‘Are you not feeling well?’
‘I think I will go home to bed, I feel a bit dizzy,’
Amy is concerned and wants to walk me back to the house but I assure her that I am fine. I have to face my fears alone and if the message is real and I am going to witness more then I will have to deal with it on my own sooner or later. I persuade Amy to leave. Being outside makes me more anxious. I know that my hallucinations haven’t gone away but I pay no attention to the bizarre looking individuals and rush to the main building to get a taxi. I am not prepared to take any more chances today.
‘Where are we going?’ asks the taxi driver, looking annoyed as I interrupted him reading a paper.
I give him the address. He looks at me, surprised but doesn't make any kind of comment. When I arrive home, I go straight upstairs and lock the door to my room. The house seems to be empty and I have to lie down to enable the other parts of my brain to work again. I take the piece of paper from my pocket and look at it for a long while. Staring at the ceiling doesn't bring any new ideas or thoughts into my head either. I look at my laptop but change my mind instantly, wondering what exactly I would type into Google anyway. No one else seemed to notice the odd individuals that I was seeing today, maybe the beautiful man that I saw for the first time in my dreams is real but I am the only human who can see him. Maybe he is an angel. I am so exhausted after the short trip to the University that I have to rest; it's after 1 o'clock but I feel so drained. Technically, I am seeing people, creatures that aren’t visible for anyone else. This isn’t possible; maybe I am still just imagining them, and after such a trauma this should be normal.
The exhaustion forces me to close my eyes and I fall asleep forgetting about today’s events. When I open my eyes, it’s dark outside; it looks like I sleep right through the afternoon. My mobile phone is showing that it’s a few minutes after 2 in the morning. When my eyes get used to the surrounding darkness, I realise that I am not alone. Once again, there is someone else in the room and I am sure that this time I can’t be dreaming.
My stomach gives me an unpleasant lurch while I try to assess if what I am seeing is real. I need to go to the bathroom but I am scared that he’ll disappear if I move. This is the moment that I have been waiting for, where I would know if all my previous visions were real. I am trying to think fast, planning what I am going to do next.
In the darkness, I get up and switch on the small lamp on the bedside table; my legs are numb. I suck the corner of my lips and look at him. This tall, numinous man is staring at me. I get an idea, and it is the only way to find out if he is really there. I walk to the table and take the paper scissors to see if the pain would allow me to wake up and finally forget about all the delusions. In the back of my mind, I am certain that it's still a dream. I lift the scissors, determined to cut myself, when the man takes a step towards me. He lifts his hand and touches my wrist. A wave of current spreads through me and I inhale the smell of spearmint, cypress wood and bergamot.
The hesitation dissolves. My naked body is only covered by a scrappy old T-shirt and I can feel goose bumps all over my skin. His hair is in a mess and he looks anxious, staring at me as if he doesn't know how I will react. I am amazed at his otherworldly blue eyes, but I am doing everything that I can to bury my emotions inside me. I curse at myself for switching on the light as I blushed instantly when his hand touched mine. His skin is warm and soft. Deep down, I am glad that I am not crazy.
‘Why?’ he whispers, piercing me with his blue eyes, still keeping his hand on mine. After a few seconds, I realise that he asked me a question. I knit my eyebrows with confusion; my heart is still beating fast, unmistakably letting me know that the man in my room is attractive.
‘Why would you hurt yourself?’
He speaks slowly but firmly, with an odd accent that I can't recognise.
‘The pain would be an answer,’ I begin. ‘Am I still dreaming?’
The anxiety vanishes from his face when he smiles, revealing gleaming white teeth. I think he just realised that his hand was still touching mine because he shifts his body to the right, stepping back. I feel that I am blushing with embarrassment and I swear in my mind. Good-looking men tend to intimidate me.
‘You control your own dreams but if you're looking for an answer, then it’s no,’ he replies, stroking his shiny hair with confidence. His every move is elegant and thoughtful; his voice is deep and peculiar. He confirms that I am not dreaming which, in theory, I should be glad of but for some reason this shoots a jolt through my stomach.
‘Who are you?’ This is the only logical question that comes to my mind. He is still staring at me, looking fairly amused.
‘In your history, we have a lot of names: a Sprite, wee folk, people of peace, a fairy,’ he explains, pressing his lips in a smile. The self-assured tone is irritating me.
My mind registers what he is saying, but I stare at him uncomprehendingly, wondering if this stranger in my room really believes in those fairy tale stories. I clear my throat and sit down on the chair, trying to gather my thoughts.
‘You are trying to tell me that you are a fairy from the legends?’ I ask ironically, surprised by my high tone.
‘As you humans say, in every legend there is always a seed of truth,’ he answers, almost whispering. ‘As I could predict, you are astonished by the way I look.’
His responses don't convey any kind of explanation of why I am seeing him. Since I left the hospital I am convinced that my mind is playing tricks on me, but this is beyond my imagination. He is sure of himself and he knows he looks perfect but I don't like the way he points that out. I blush again while his eyes meet mine and my heart starts dancing in my chest.
‘My mind cannot cope with this,’ I stare at the floor. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of intimidating me even further. His expression changes and his eyes narrow.
‘It's understandable, I cannot explain why you are able to see me, but it's worrying me. Your life would be in danger if any other Sprites knew that you are able to recognise us,’ he says, looking deeply concerned. He’s analysing me with his deep gaze and it's making me feel nervous again but I don't flush, determined to keep my eyes on his. I have a million questions, but I don't want to sound idiotic.
‘If you don’t mind I need to go to the toilet, but I will be back in two seconds,’ I say and leave my room quickly, trying not to make it look obvious that I’m wondering whether he will actually be there when I come back.
Once in the bathroom, I look at the mirror, realising that I look dreadful. I start to brush my hair, but I look at myself once again and I stop. Why make an effort? He isn't showing any interest in me, the last thing that I want to do to show him that I am adjusting my look for him. He is the most handsome looking man that I have ever seen, but I can pretend that he didn’t make an impression on me. Presumably, I am the only human that he has ever spoken to. I get the most gorgeous guy in my room that no one else is aware of and I am terrified.
When I walk back to the room, he is still standing in the same spot, looking at the books on my desk with interest. When I clear my throat, he doesn't turn around straightaway. I give up my attempts to understand why he is here and why I am the one that is going crazy.
‘A few weeks ago I almost died,’ I say, not waiting for his reaction to me being back in the room.
‘I am deeply concerned about your new ability. I was nearby when you were attacked,’ he says unexpectedly, taking his eyes off the books.
‘And you did nothing?’
‘I am not here to prevent your future; you were not able to see me th
en, even if I had tried it wouldn’t have worked,’ he explains, looking dejected and turning around finally, searching for my eyes. I am still standing by the door; somehow being away from him gives me more confidence.
‘That's too bad!’ I snap, ‘What exactly do you want?’
Suddenly I can feel my anger flowing around the room; I have had enough of his useless explanations, which don't answer any of my questions. He is gorgeous but overconfident. I am able to see him and presumably he can't change that. His expression reveals surprise and he lifts his eyebrows slightly.
‘You are the first human that I have ever spoken to. Of course there has been incident in the past, but no one talks about it. I will explain more another time but for now protect yourself by pretending that we don't exist,’ he adds in a firmer voice, ‘I can talk to you when the nightfall or dawn approaches to avoid being discovered.’
‘This doesn’t make much sense,’ I say, making a face but he vanishes, leaving me angry. I punch the wall with frustration; it hurts more than I expected. Who the hell does he think he is? He doesn't answer any of my questions and leaves without saying good-bye. I didn’t even have a chance to ask if he has a name. I switch off the light and fall on the bed, wondering whether my life will ever go back to normal again.
The Whispers of the Sprite (The Whispers Series #1) Page 4