18
WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME
Alone in the big bed, I sleep restlessly. In addition to back pain radiating to my hips, I’m haunted by Emma’s weak voice in my head, suffering torture, weak, bleeding, scared, alone. Memories of my own experiences feed the images and my fear for her. I almost wish Jo had compelled me to a deep dreamless sleep. Almost.
She laid down with me when we first got into bed, but by the time I awoke, she was gone, Nicolet keeping vigil. After a shower, I pull on faded cut-off pink sweats and a worn t-shirt, needing comfort. Though I’m not as exhausted as I should be, I crave the energy I had yesterday. The energy and pain-free help that their blood gives. Just as I’m ready to head down for coffee, Jo shows up.
Smiling, she studies me. I work to blank my mind of all my w
