Part 2 (2/2)

When I told her, she got this look on her face, the kind of look that told me she'd rip someone a new a.s.s if she could. She marched down to the school, talked to the princ.i.p.al, and demanded the phone numbers of the two boys. At first they wouldn't give them to her, but she was persistent and maybe a bit aggressive. I remember one teacher referring to her as a pitbull.

When she got the numbers she called the boys' parents and proceeded to rip them a new a.s.s too. Needless to say it didn't take long for that s.h.i.+t to roll down hill and the boys stopped bugging me. I think everyone at school, especially the princ.i.p.al and the teachers, were scared of my mom after that. Or at least they looked at her with a mix of respect and fear.

Because of that, I was hesitant to tell her what happened. I knew what she'd do. She wouldn't let this just go away. She wouldn't let me brush it under the bed to be forgotten. No, she'd go after Thane and Malice with a vengeance. Not only because they hurt me, or at least I think they did, but because she'd been in a band, she toured with other rockers and she despised those who preyed on the obsessions and fantasies of groupies.

After one final hiccup, I lifted my head intent on telling her everything, or at least the parts I was certain of, when something inside me broke.

Pain I'd never experienced before ripped through me. As if something, something large was trying to punch and kick its way out of my stomach. Gasping, I doubled over unable to stay upright.

”Salem!” My mom grabbed my arm trying to keep me from falling on my face.

I couldn't get my breath to tell her I was in pain, that something was wrong. Opening and closing my mouth like a guppy, I dug my fingers into her arms holding on for dear life. The abyss was coming for me. And it was dark and scary and full of agony and torture. I didn't want to fall down into it. I knew I'd lose my mind if I did.

Another wave of searing pain ripped through me. I screamed. My body thrashed and writhed under the grip of the dark agony. Spots formed in my vision and the room was spinning making me dizzy. I was going to vomit. Maybe I could purge the violent lashes of pain out of me. There had to be a way to make it stop.

”Mom,” I groaned. ”I'm dying.”

Murmuring to me, she helped me to lie on the sofa putting a pillow behind my head. Tears streaming down my cheeks, I pulled my knees up to my chest to try and cus.h.i.+on the tearing pain. It didn't help, and I could feel my gorge rising. Leaning over the side of the sofa I retched.

”Oh G.o.d.” I heard my mom say as she raced out of the room.

I couldn't think past the pain. I couldn't see anything in front of me except dots of black and white. Everything was spinning out of control. And I couldn't hold on, there was nothing to grab. I was going to fly off.

Mom came back with a bucket and a wet washcloth. She set the cool towel on my forehead. It gave me no reprieve. My head seemed like it was going to explode. I was hot and sweaty and every part of my body flashed harshly with pain.

”Jesus, you're burning up.”

I wanted to hold my mom's hand. I wanted her to hold me, to make it better, to chase the pain away. Delirious, I reached for her. ”Mom,” I moaned. ”Make it stop.”

I don't know if she held me or not. I stopped feeling anything outside my own body and dark agony. I couldn't see anything as well, except for a ball of black light spinning and spinning around in front of me making me sick. How can black light burn?

It seemed like I was being sucked backwards into a long black tunnel. My stomach flipped over as if I was dropping fast, like riding a roller coaster. That light-headed feeling enveloped me. And I smiled. The pain had subsided and I felt as light as a feather, slowly floating down, down to the bottom.

”Salem!”

I heard her voice, but it seemed far off, as if she was calling me from somewhere high above. I wanted to tell her it was okay. That I was fine now, she didn't need to worry. I felt so good; I heard music in my head.

”Breathe, baby! Oh G.o.d, please breathe!”

Spinning, spinning, turning out of control. Sounds of whirring in my ears.

”Don't leave me, baby!”

Floating, floating, on a sea of air. A tinkling of crystal tears.

”Don't die, Salem! G.o.d d.a.m.n you, don't die!”

I'm filled with nothing but static...

Chapter 5.

Someone was humming. It was light and melodic-a song I should've recognized but didn't. Cool pressure on my forehead forced my eyes open.

My mom smiled down at me, her hand stroking my face. ”Hey sweetie.”

Blinking, I looked at her then beyond her to the room. White blinds were pulled up allowing bright suns.h.i.+ne to beam through an open window. I could hear birds chirping outside. The walls were white, as were the ceiling tiles. And the curtain separating my bed from the rest of the room was sunny yellow. I supposed it should've all been cheerful, but the fact that I was laying in a hospital room didn't make me feel all that cheerful. How the h.e.l.l did I get here? All I remembered was crying in my mom's arms. Then after that it was pretty much a black hole.

”Hey,” I croaked. My mouth and throat were really dry as if all the moisture had been sucked out of my flesh.

”Are you thirsty?”

I nodded.

She grabbed a plastic cup of water from the movable bedside table. It had a straw in it, and she bent it so I could sip from it without lifting my head. The cool liquid was like heaven as it went down my parched throat. I took one more sip before she took it away and set it back onto the table.

”Why...why am I here?”

”You got sick, baby.”

I tried to sit up. My arms, back and neck were sore. They ached more than when I first woke up in the dumpster. Mom helped me edge up; she tucked a pillow behind my back.

”How long have I been here?”

She stopped fidgeting with my pillow, and really looked at me. It was then I noticed how red her eyes were and the dark smudges under them. It looked like she hadn't slept in a week.

”About thirty-six hours.”

”What?!” I bolted forward, but my mom pushed me back, keeping me from jumping out of bed.

”It's okay. You're going to be fine.”

”But-but...that's over a day? How is that possible?”

She sat on the edge of my bed, her hand still on my arm. It was as if she couldn't stop touching me maybe to see if I was real. What had happened to give her that haunted look on her face?

”The day you came home late? Something happened, and I had to call 911.”

I gripped her hand hard pleading her to tell me what was really going on. ”What happened?”

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