CHAPTER FIVE
I actually had a great night’s sleep. This bed has a super comfy pillow-top mattress. And I had no migraine what-so-ever. It can't get any better than that. Except that I already miss my mom and dad.
After the fog of sleep dissipates, I try to remember what woke me up in the first place. I think that someone knocked at my door. I flip back my covers, hop out of bed, and walk over to open the door.
Nobody's there. I look both ways down the hall, and still, nobody. Just then Tara, from across the hall, opens her door.
“G'morning.” She says through a yawn. “How'd you sleep?” She stretches her arms up high over her head, then lets them fall limply down to her sides.
“Awesome, actually. These beds must have magical powers, because for the first time in three days, I didn't have any pain in my head when I woke up.” I pause for a second, and then ask her, “Do you know if someone knocked on my door or did I just imagine that.”
“Oh, every morning around 7:00 someone will knock at your door; just two knocks, to wake you up in case you're not up already. You'll get used to it. Sometimes they knock to let you know you have paperwork or mail or something. They put it in your slot beside your door. You have something there. It's probably your schedule, if you didn't get one already.” Tara, still yawning and stretching, waves to me. “I'll come pick you up in an hour, and we can go get some breakfast.”
I nod to her, bring my paperwork into my room, take an orange juice from my little fridge and sit back down on my bed. It's my schedule, a list of the 'House Rules of Conduct', and a map of the school. Well, I have English, Human Behavioral Science, Concentration Class... wait a minute, what the hell is Concentration Class? “What the hell did I get myself into?” I leave the papers on my bed and head to my bathroom for a shower. I'll read the rest of the schedule later.
The breakfast spread is amazing. They even have my favorite cereal in a cute little box. We sit at the same table, with the same people that I met last night. Not much conversation to be had this morning. Everyone sleepily stares down at their food, yawning and rubbing their eyes through most of the meal. Once in a while someone will look up and smile at me if we meet eyes.
Tara reads over my schedule and shows me on the map where all the rooms are that I have to go to. She even explains to me that basically Concentration Class is about how to control your emotions and your anxiety levels. Ok, so now I know, sort of.
She says that no matter what grade you were in at your regular high school, it doesn't change what we have to learn here. Basically, since I was in grade 12 in my high school, I still have to start out as a beginner in most of my studies.
Tara also tells me that there aren't a lot of kids here, so they put beginner kids in with the experienced kids, but they study their subject at different levels.
We empty our trays and everyone splits up to go their own ways. Sherri has the same class as me so she walks me there.
A headache is starting up; quickly worsening. By the time we get to the classroom it’s a full blown migraine. I hope it goes away just as fast as it came. I’ve been told that stress brings them on, and God knows that I've been a little stressed these last few days.
I sit beside Sherri and she hands me a textbook. “Here you go. You're going to need this.”
“Thank you.” The pain in my head is increasing at a faster pace than it ever has before and so much more intense. It seems like the lights are getting brighter in here. The teacher starts talking, and writing something on the blackboard, but I can't even focus on what she's saying, let alone writing.
Sherri whispers to me, but it sounds like screaming. “You don’t look good. I'm going to touch you and read you. Is that ok?”
All I can do is nod my head, and even that is outrageously painful. I can feel her hand on my arm, tingly and warm; vibrating. Sherri's hand leaves my arm. I hear her chair scrape on the floor and that causes me more agony.
Hands, vibrating hands, pull on my shirt and help lift me out of my chair. Sherri is guiding me out the backdoor of the classroom. “You're going to be alright. I'm taking you to see Nurse Carol. She'll give you something to stop that migraine. I can't believe anyone can have that much pain. I felt it when I touched you.”
That's when it happens. I feel the same as I imagine getting hit by lightning would feel. Sheer, utter pain! My body stiffens.
Blackness… I’m floating through the blackness; the nothingness. Then colours… spiraling… swirling, magnificent shades coming towards me, blending into the blackness until it takes over and the colours are all I can see. Through the vibrant shades I see it, the bubble. I really don't want to see what's in the bubble, but I can't look away. It's getting closer. Then I see clear as a bell; it looks like a mall. I’m pulled into the bubble.
I stand overlooking a food court. There are a lot of people here. The floor seems to quiver slightly. The ceiling starts to crack and shake. Dust falls, and people start running, scattering in a panic. The ceiling is falling down, landing on some of the people and squashing them. Then it's just a cloud of dust, and I am being sucked backwards through the colours, through the blackness.
I gasp for air. It takes me a moment to realize that I am lying on the hallway floor outside of the classroom on top of Sherri's leg. A group of kids are all around; staring.
As I sit up, I shuffle off of Sherri's leg and turn to apologize, but what I see in her face is utter terror. Tears are pouring down her cheeks, dripping off her chin onto her blue shirt. She must have seen what I saw; only she doesn’t have the emotion blocker that I seem to have during a vision. She may never get over this. I feel awful.
Well, the good news is that my migraine is gone… not even a mild headache... nothing.
In the midst of sobs, she yells, “We have to warn someone. We have to stop it. Where is this going to happen... when??” It’s so obvious Sherri is just as freaked out as I am, maybe more so.
A nurse comes and checks me out to see if I’m able to walk on my own, and I am. The two of us head down to see Doc Turner.
“It's nice to see you again, Laura. However, your gift seems to be coming to you at a very fast pace, doesn't it.” I nod at the big man in the white jacket. A man I've known my whole life. He's my pediatrician, Doc Turner. He has been treating me since the moment I was born.
He's a very gentle man; soft spoken. Even now, at my age of 18, he still wants to be my doctor. Pediatricians rarely ever treat adults, and an 18 year old is considered an adult. He still gives me a sucker after every visit. His hair, once brown, is now almost all grey; well, whatever hair he has left on his head. I think when it fell out of his scalp it re-rooted in his ears and nose.
He's been becoming more and more “portly” through the years. Being just under 6' tall, and 250+ lbs., he's “large and in charge”, as they say. His belly leads him around, and I think he might just be ready to give birth to a baby elephant any day now.
“How are the migraines my dear?” His short, sausage-like fingers are pressing at different spots on my head, and then down to the glands in my neck. “Does this hurt?”
“No, that doesn't hurt. Migraines are getting worse. I see things when I have them now. Nobody can tell me why. Will you tell me anything?” I try to speak normally but it's hard when someone is flashing a tiny, really bright pen light in and out of your line of vision. Now I have red spots everywhere I look... Great.
Doc Turner comes at me with one of those huge Popsicle sticks. “Stick out your tongue and say ah.” I comply and hope that my breath isn't horrible. “Well my dear, we really can't say why these afflictions are developing in some teens. Theory is that it's something environmental, but who could say for sure? That's why we have rounded most of you up, and brought you to one place. Hopefully we will be able to study your genetics, past histories, and behaviors, and see if there is a common link to explain everything.” He smiles at me with his pudgy face.
“Have you found out anything? No matter what it is, like, if I never, ever have another bite of ice cream, than this will never happen again. Please tell me, no matter how stupid it sounds.” I am so totally serious. Please let it be that easy.
Doc Turner gives a whole body chuckle, “No, my dear Laura, it is not that simple. We haven't found any common food link. But you don't worry yourself about those issues. Leave it to the professionals. We would all like it if you would just go to your classes, and learn how to ease yourself into the controlling and managing portion of your gift, and let us worry about the rest.”
“A gift? Yeah, I’d like to exchange it.” I still hope it's something simple, and that they'll figure it out soon. The doc helps me off the table and ushers me out the door, but stops to hand me a sucker and a slip of paper.
“Take this to Nurse Lorraine. She's the head nurse for your floor, and she'll fill this for you. It's a prescription for a mild sedative to help you. Put one drop under your tongue as soon as you feel the migraine coming on, and it'll ease you through the pain process. If you ever have anything that you think might help in our discovery process, write it down and when we meet each week for your evaluation, we can go over it. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”
I shake my head ‘no’, and try to read the messy writing on the paper. I'll never understand how a pharmacist can ever fill a prescription correctly.
I have about an hour to go to my room, and take a nap before dinner. I could really use a nap. Migraines tend to exhaust me quicker than running a marathon would. Not that I'd ever run a marathon; too much work for me. But before I even reach my door, I see a yellow sticky note stuck to it. I walk over and peel it off. Please come to room #15 as soon as you get this. Thanks, Arianna.
I put my books in my room, give the prescription to Nurse Lorraine, then head down to meet this Arianna person, whoever she is. At least on my map it shows that her room is close to the mess hall. I hope this doesn't take too long, I'm starving. So much for my nap!
Colours In Blackness - A New Life Page 5