7 Sickness (1/2)

I went to my soul once again. This time I could see something. It was blurry, like I was looking through a foggy window. Still, this new change excited me.

Channelling qi through my eyes must have made this possible. I made a mental note to try it again when I had qi to spare.

I had to be precise when I shaped my soul. I began to spin it, then slowly sped up. The qi resting on it began to slip off, but I ignored that.

I imagined a force pressing from opposite sides. The edges of the disc began to curl, then rise upwards. I shaped it, like a potter forms a bowl.

The edge of the disk was slanted now, and there was no resistance when I pushed it up further. The qi inside formed a shallow well, but some still splashed out. I had to make the bowl deeper.

I took my time. I didn't want to rip to the container's paper-thin surface. Slowly but surely, the sides rose, and began to resemble a vase.

I noticed that I only made progress when qi splashed out of the container. I needed qi to continue, but the well was drying up.

A final drop of qi splashed out, and I gave one last push. With no more qi left, I couldn't continue, and I lead my focus away.

The instant my concentration dropped I heard a ping from my soul. It sounded like someone struck a wine glass to make a toast. The ping reverberated through my body, slowly building in volume.

The ping became a high-pitched ringing sound, and my body started to vibrate. The vibrations rushed to my core and my soul began to shake.

I felt a gut-wrenching pain, like someone was squeezing all my organs. Both my soul and my body screamed in agony. My eyes flashed open, my back arched, and I let out an ungodly screech.

Father rushed to my side. He put his hand on my chest, then recoiled in surprise. When he put his hands back, they gave off a scorching heat.

I waited for the rush of pleasure, but there was none. It felt like my body was being ripped, tugged and burnt. I tried to squirm away from father's hands, but I couldn't escape.

Why was he hurting me? I couldn't explain it. All I could do was struggle.

”… Oscar!” he shouted at me ”… Oscar!”

I didn't know what he meant but I clung onto the sounds. He sounded panicked, not angry. I clenched my jaw and tried to stop fighting him.

His burning qi shot straight to my soul and filled it in a flash. The ringing stopped and the pain vanished. I wanted to understand what had happened, but I had no time.

The pain was gone, and a deep sickening feeling had replaced it. Father removed his hand, and my body seized up as I start retching.

From the corner of my eye I saw father run to his desk. He ripped out a drawer and emptied it on the floor.

”Stephanie! …!” he screamed.

I tried to watch him, but vomit poured from my mouth and I curled up into a ball. I heard banging and grinding but I had no idea what he was doing.

The banging stopped, and I felt a hand push my head back. Something was forced into my mouth, and I gagged. It was dry and bitter, and I spat in reflex.

But father clamped his hand around my jaw. I opened my eyes in shock, to see him shaking his head. He jabbed a finger at his throat and made a swallowing gesture.