Unravel

Chapter Three

There's a great difference between bumping into someone and shoving someone. And this isn't one of the two—No, it's a combination of both. The guy didn't budge, not even an inch. And I didn't. He must be in shock. I am also. Maybe he's waiting for me to say something, only I can't think of anything. Maybe he's waiting for me to gather my pride. I hope he's got all day.

Time seemed to slow down between us the whole time we're standing in the cafeteria. Or how I think it is. I notice that the cafeteria has gone momentarily silent and can almost feel the topic of discussion shift between the students as I imagine them staring, boring holes into me.

Best-case scenario, they think I slipped because of a wet floor—even though it wasn't—that I didn't do it on purpose—even though I didn't. Worst-case scenario, they saw me, watched me, and think I did, do it on purpose, that I purposely embarrassed myself on this complete stranger and not because I was on my way towards an empty table. Either way, he knows what happened. He knows why my cheek is plastered on his hard chest. And there is definite humiliation waiting when I get around to looking up at him and in front of everyone else who bore witness to my humiliating situation.

Options ran over my mind like a slide show.

Option one: Run away as fast as my favorite pair of sneakers can take me and maybe even skip class for the rest of the day. I'll just come up with a lame excuse to Mom that I caught a last-minute bad stomach ache, maybe even tell her that it worsened into diarrhea. Gross but possibly believable.

Option two: Pretend I've fainted. Go limp and everything. Maybe even drool to make my act believable. I think I can nail it. But then what? Wait until all the people here go to their next period of the day? Or can I even fake it until someone decides to carry me into the nurse's office? Nope. Not an option. Next.

Option three: Pray that the school gets a wide blackout. One that lasts enough to cause a little panic within the students inside and tears their attention from mine. But really, he should have been paying more attention to where he's going when he saw that I was busy looking the other way from the table that I'm walking towards. Yep, his fault not mine.

For a few seconds, I think my prayers are answered as the cafeteria felt a little hot. Then I realize it's just my face planted on his chest feeling his hot presence that I can hear his heart pounding too fast.

Option four: For crying out loud, peel my cheek off his chest and just apologize for bumping to him. Then hobble away in my lunch-strewn sneakers. Maybe if I'm lucky I faint and won't be aware of what happens to my body, other than someone has to carry me, at least I'm unaware the whole time. Also, do it now.

Anything would just be fine to fly away from this utter humiliation.

As I ease away from him, I slipped from the lunch that's scattered on the floor, and only seconds away from my back meeting the floor for the first time in forever. I shut my eyes as I accepted my demise but then he caught me by the arms and as I open my eyes again—that's when the cafeteria melts away, before my eyes can even have a look at his face. That's when an image flashed before my eyes.

Everything deafens around me. Suddenly, I'm standing inside a room full of books, as big as the Trinity College Library in Dublin, Ireland; only this one is different, the bookshelves reach over the tall ceiling which is painted white with gold and white stucco decorations, the whole room is white with hints of gold everywhere, fresco's on the ceilings with tall archways and round marbled pillars on ends, and crystal chandeliers.

I'm walking towards an endless hall of bookshelves around me until I reached the end, an elegant doorway. I drew it open in a big sweep and step out, meeting the golden lights from the corridor with the same stucco decorations and archways. I walk again through an endless passage of doors every a few feet or so, I turn in a corner until I reached another passage as if I knew my way in this endless maze of corridors and passages. This time I come around a balcony in a big room—a ballroom; A long double-arched stairway is attached to it on its ends. The ballroom has the same design and crystal chandeliers as the library, except it has long arched windows and long curtains looming over on its sides. The room glints in golden light, almost blinding. The place is full of people in suits and ball gowns. Oddly weird but elegant. I'm now running towards the stairway lifting my gown an inch and towards the people dancing. I almost trip over my gown until a person in a suit wearing a mask—the kind you wear in a masquerade ball—came to my aid. I peer up. He flashed a radiant smile. His dimples showing. His hair blonde and his eyes crystal blue. He says something inaudible. I nod.

Then the vision starts to flicker and disappears. That's when I faint.

As I wake, I blinked as my eyes adjusted from the bright light in the room and saw that I'm in the nurse's office. But the nurse isn't around. It took me a minute to administer what happened to me a while ago—I bumped into someone. No way. I fainted. Woah, de ja vu. I hoist myself in a sitting position, the cot made a creaking sound as I move. There was another vision—yes, I'm certain they are visions. But why? I flinched as I heard the white curtain that separates the other cot from mine, slid open and met a pair of goggling amber eyes.

"Good, you're awake." Cammie exhaled. "Thought you might end up in a coma."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean—'what do you mean'?" She says incredulously. "You, my dear, slept for almost an hour."

"An hour?"

What occurred earlier really took a toll on my body to doze off that long. I did stagger to keep my balance yesterday when I saw a vision of myself falling but that was a brief one, it didn't even last a half-minute; the other one—the one I saw earlier, it felt longer but still it was brief. I shake my head in confusion. What's happening to me? Is this normal to even see the future? Surely, it wasn't just any coincidence or my mind playing tricks on me right? I know enough about myths about foreseeing the future and it always, always comes with a price. Oh, no. Please don't take away my sight. Does this come with a return policy? Because I'm sure as hell I want to return it. Take it back, take it back, take it back. What if my life is the price? I don't want to die young! I've got so many plans for my life. I still want to go to college, even though I'm still not sure of what I want. I want to fall in love again, get married. Have a normal life, for crying out loud. I feel myself on the verge of crying.

"Hey, Eirene." Cammie threw a pillow at my face, pulling me back to my senses. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Geez, Cammie, thanks. I needed that." I let out an exasperated sigh.

I'm sure if I ignore it, it will go away. Yes. I'm sure it was all a dream. It was a trick that my mind is playing. I'm sure it was all because I didn't eat enough for breakfast. Still, it creeps me out. I shudder.

"Hey! There you go again, dozing off!" She snapped her fingers, thrice. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know." I frown.

No, I'm not going to cry. Not even in front of my best friend. And I rarely cry. It's ridiculous to cry over something that stupid.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say. "It was nothing, I was just confused that's all."

She gave me a skeptical look. Then her brow creases in worry. "You know you can tell me anything, anytime."

"I know."

"Then what's wrong? Is it because you fainted in front of everybody?"

No. "Yes." I lied.

I wish it was that simple, but I'm still confused and don't know what to feel. All of my emotions are at war inside me—desperate to get ahold of me, to pick one. I sigh. I'm sure it was nothing and I'm just exaggerating. I decided to bury it deep in my mind.

"Oh, please. It wasn't that bad you know." She encouraged. "For what it's worth, all the girls envied you."

I calmed myself and let Cammie pull me into one of her comical gossips.

"Why on earth would they be envious of me fainting?" I ask, appalled. "Is it the new trend now?" I roll my eyes and smirked.

She smiled, a mischievous one. "Because you were carried by the gorgeous guy."

My smirk drops. I suddenly felt embarrassed. Because it is embarrassing to faint in front of everybody and not just that, but also being carried by the guy—the girls in my school are crazy about. I didn't think I'd actually faint. I imagine the glares they'll throw at me the moment they see me walking the school halls after today—like I stole their moment from them. Ugh.

"Aw, It must've felt dreamy." Her eyes gleaming. "How I wish it was me."

"Yes, I wish it wasn't me." I gag. "Where were you anyway?"

"I was in the loo, remember? Turns out I just got my period, which explains why I felt that way earlier" She says. "Then I called you and went to the cafeteria only to see you being carried by him and I followed you here. After he propped you on the cot, he was immediately called to the office to explain. I didn't even get to speak with him and ask his name. And that was the last time anyone saw him. I think you scared him off."

"Aw, boo for you." I throw her back the pillow she threw at me.

She rolled her eyes at me and smiled. "You mock, just because you were carried by him like a damsel in distress."

"Oh, shut up." I feel my cheeks getting hot.

"Please, I know you liked it."

"I so do not."

"Ooh, I bet you're wondering what he looks like."

I rolled my eyes at her. Even though a tiny part of me wanted to know, I'd rather not tell her that, or she won't stop teasing me about it.

"You do, don't you? Your look says it all."

Of course, she can see right through me.

"I don't." I pressed and then I snickered at her. "Besides, you said I scared him off. I bet he doesn't want to go to school here anymore."

Cammie just glared at me. I felt victorious.

As I shot up out of my cot, Cammie pointed at my face. "You might want to fix that?"

"Fix what?"

"Your eyes."

I went for the nearest mirror in the room. As I stare at my reflection, I'm now missing a piece of my contacts on my left eye like I have a heterochromia condition—one blue and one violet. How it managed to fall, I don't know and very unlikely. To make the matters worse, my usually wavy blond hair—looked like a storm passed over it as it's way more unruly than it already is.

Cammie knew of the real color of me and my brother's eyes way before Mom even instructed us to hide it. We just moved from Greece and were on the second day of staying in Malibu. Mom was at work at that time and we were baby-sitted by one of her closest friends, Elena. At that time, Cammie's parents (Mr. and Mrs. Kearsley) knew of our recent move in town that they go out of their way to take a visit, bringing Cammie with them since her Dad was running for mayor at that time—so he needed all the vote he can get. At least, that's what I heard from her when I asked her about it when we became close. Of course, at that time we were too young to be allowed to wear contacts leading for her to see the color of my eyes. She was amazed by it that she begged her parents to stay until eight in the evening to play with me, she always had been friendly ever since she was a child. And that's how we came to be friends up until now.

I was homeschooled until I was eight, same for Evan; then came the day our age were eligible to wear contacts that we consulted a trusted eye doctor, a friend of hers, for our safety of wearing one, only it wasn't to help our vision clearer but rather hide its true color. My mother was hesitant about it a couple of times but it took a lot of convincing from Cammie to let me go to school with her and said she'd be watching out for me, even though we both know it would be the other way around.

"Great, you're up." Says the nurse who showed up at the door, looking at me. I wondered where she was earlier. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good. Is it okay for me to go now?"

"Yes. I already called your Mom."

"What?" My eyes widen. Crap. Mom. I searched my pockets for my phone and instantly checked to see how many calls and texts she sent me—a lot. It was on silent mode since I'm at school. I immediately dialed her and told her that she didn't need to fetch me as I didn't want to leave my car here at school. It took a lot of begging and convincing before she decided to wait for me after school at the house.

"It's imperative to call your parents after that type of incident, I hope you understand that." She says, not even sorry. Then she shifted her gaze to Cammie. "How about you dear? How are you feeling?"

"Feeling better, the pain reliever is already working."

"That's good to hear, if you both feel better you—"

"Okay, great, thanks."

I didn't bother to hear the rest as I already bolted out of the room, and went straight to the locker area; Cammie followed me shortly after. The hall was quite empty as expected since all the students are already in class, maybe even in their last period of the day. I opened my locker and rummaged through my bag for my spare contacts. It was a good call to not let my brother borrow it or I won't have anything to use now. I settled it on my eyes.

At home, as we arrived on our driveway, there was a gray pickup truck parked by it. Evan dashed straight through the door and to his room. As I stand there in our foyer, I saw a man sitting on our couch in the living room, across from Mom; they are discreetly discussing a certain matter. Mom's eyes flitted from the man to mine.

"Honey, come here." Mom says. When I closed in on them the man stands and smiles. "Surely, you remember Mr. Ottis Schmidt from the last time, right?"

Of course, I do. How can I not? He's a 'family' friend like what you always tell me. He has always been around since we moved here. Whenever there's something bad happens either to me or Evan, he never fails to show up.

"Yes, umm ... Hi." I forced a smile.

The last time I saw him was last year, the first week of August, a few days after Evan turned twelve. At that time, Evan was acting really strange, he wanted to go swimming on the beach, even though he knew we are allergic to it. He begged Mom to let him and even sneaked a couple of times that Mom didn't know what to do. Then Ottis showed up and somehow Evan stopped with his obsession to go to the beach. Just. Like. That. It was really weird to begin with, how he calmed Evan down. But he did visit a couple of times after that incident to track Evan's progress. Sometimes I see Evan muttering to himself, confused and mistaking a few things. Then Mom said he was diagnosed with mild ADHD which explains the way he acts weird sometimes. But all in all, he's a smart kid and wise for his age and top of the class.

Then, of course, there's me, a few days before I turned thirteen I had this nightmare that was so vivid and real, I woke in the middle of the night. Ottis shows up the next morning and I don't recall what the dream was about. Only that I awoke in the middle of the night, scared and Mom caressing me to calm down.

I concluded that the reason why he's always around to help with me and Evan's issues is maybe they are dating and Mom was just reluctant to admit it to us. The truth is I was waiting for her to tell me that rather than ask her myself. He looked the same age as Mom, and his name doesn't do him justice because he is quite handsome with raven hair and blue eyes. It's no wonder why Mom wouldn't want to miss out on dating Ottis; he's smart and successful like her, even had a Ph.D. in Psychology. How did I know all of that? Evan. He tends to press people with never-ending questions. But still, if she did admit it, it'll hurt, like a thousand needles pricking me. I don't want to have another Father other than my Dad. I only want Dad. It's selfish, I know.

"He's here to thoroughly check on you." Mom said.

Isn't the nurse checking on me enough for you? Is what I wanted to say.

But I figured the safest words to say are, "Mom, I'm fine. I told you a thousand times already."

"Eirene, this is not open for a discussion." She says in a tone of command. "It's for your own good."

I sigh. I'd rather not test her patience. I'm already tired and didn't have enough energy to further bicker with her. I slumped down on the couch and Ottis followed with Mom on his side.

"How are you Eirene?" Ottis asked, examining my eyes with a penlight. Of course, he knows about the color of our eyes.

"I'm fine." I muttered. I peered at Mom, giving me a stern look, telling me to watch every word I speak.

Honestly, I don't know why Ottis has to be the one to check up on me when Mom can also do this. She did study Medicine.

"Have you had any headaches or any unusual dreams?" His eyes were searching mine, finding any hint of reluctance.

But then, Mom didn't pursue a degree in Psychology, so I guess that's why. She needs information other than my health but also what I'm not telling. Should I tell him about those visions? Whatever they are... Nope. Not a chance. Mom would overreact about it and I'm pretty sure it's nothing. Why bother.

I look at him straight in the eyes and said, "Just a little headache." Because it's true and not a total lie. "I didn't actually, eat that much this morning." I sheepishly smile.

Mom glared at me and pressed her lips together, shaking her head in dismay. There. She's beyond mad, thinking that that's the reason why I fainted, even though it wasn't. At least, not entirely.

"Okay." He says. "Let's check your blood pressure and your blood sugar right after."

"Okay." I said, holding out my arms to him.

As he put on the strap of the sphygmomanometer on my arms, I felt a small sense of familiarity with the sensation. Then it happened, I began to feel a little lightheaded, my vision starts to blur, and finding it hard to focus on what he was saying.

"Eirene ... Are ... okay?"

"What?" I said, a little dazed. What's going on?

The sphygmomanometer's cuff tightened on my arms. The throbbing on my head worsens, I put my palms on my face, then felt a hand straighten it out. I felt another hand on my back, supporting me to sit straight, and can't make out who's.

"Honey ... it's ... to ... okay..." I heard Mom's voice, soft and sweet. "It's ... done."

As soon as the sphygmomanometer's cuff is pulled from my arms, everything goes back to normal; the queasiness is gone, my vision is crystal clear, and I can hear fine again—like all of it never even happened.

I saw Mom's face painted with worry now.

"Okay," He says. "We're done. You're good to go." That fast? How is it done already?

Then he shot up from his seat and asked Mom to speak with her alone, disregarding his patient—me. It has always been like this—always with their secrecy like I'm never allowed in their conversation, even though It's about me. And always careful with their actions. They think I don't notice, but I do. I always hated that.

Dinner came and I didn't want to have dinner with them—with Ottis—but it's not like I got a choice when I didn't even have lunch and didn't eat enough on breakfast, my stomach was grumbling in objection when I told Mom I won't be joining them. Of course, there's that, she forced me to eat dinner since it was the 'reason' why I fainted earlier. She believed that was the reason. She said I need enough sugar in my body to function properly—that my blood sugar was low and was the reason why I fainted. But I knew it was more than that—and that something happened before I fainted, but when I try so hard to remember it, I just can't. I don't remember anything, other than bumping into someone and fainting. Weird. It was the same feeling I felt when I tried to remember the nightmare I dreamt of when I was twelve. I knew something isn't right, I just can't grasp what. It never occurred to me until now that one thing's for sure—it has something to do with Ottis.

That night I had a vivid dream. I was in a room—my room, in our house, in Greece before we moved to Malibu. I'm sitting in my bed, talking to a hologram person from a golden bracelet; the hologram is life-like, like the person is there with you. The person of the hologram is a kid and I know him. He has dark hair and sea-green eyes.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your family that night." He said, his eyes full of sympathy. "It must've felt traumatic."

"It's not your fault, you know." I said. "And I don't really remember all of it."

"But still, I wished I was there to help and protect you."

I blushed. "You're just eight, how will you fight them off?"

"You should've seen me fight my didáskalos, he said I'm getting good at my swordsmanship training." He said, proudly. "He even said I'm better than all the kids at my age."

"Yeah, right." I teased. "Those monsters would've gobbled you up."

"I'll train more and be better every day, so when the day comes I have to protect you, I'll be stronger. Promise."

Suddenly I blushed. "I'm sure you will, I know you can."

"I'll show you the next time you visit me." He said, hopeful. "Will you visit me anytime soon?"

"I don't know..." I frown. "Mom didn't say anything about when I can visit anyone again."

"That's sad to hear..." His expression saddened. "I miss you."

I blushed again. "I ... miss you too."

He grinned, showing his cute deep dimples. "About what I said, that night..." He stops for a few seconds, reluctant.

"What night?" I asked.

"You know, Aeneas' seventh genéthlia celebration, about when I grow up."

I felt my heart pounding rapidly in my chest.

"But that's still twelve years from now," I said, lowering my eyes on my bed. "You'll probably forget about it when we grow up."

"I won't, I promise." He said, smiling radiantly. "I'm sure you'll be a great Queen for me."

That put a smile on my face.

"Pinkie promise." He raised his fist with only his pinkie finger out and I raised mine to him, curling it on his hologram pinkie.

"If you say so, Pinkie promise." We both giggled.

"Eirene!" Called Mom from downstairs.

"That's Mom calling me to go." I frown. "We have to go."

"Did she say when you'll be back?"

"She said, it's just for a vacation." I flashed him an encouraging smile. "I'll ring you when we get there."

"Okay. I miss you already."

"Miss you too."

"Eirene!" Mom called again. "Let's go."

"Coming!"

"I really have to go." I said, my chest tightened. "See you."

"Okay." He frowned. "See you."

Then his hologram disappeared.

As I go downstairs, Mom is carrying little Evan and a man is standing beside her. His hair raven and his eyes violet.

"Ottis." I whispered to myself as I woke up. But why were his eyes violet?

I prop myself up in a sitting position, switched my lamp on, and reached for my journal. I put in the combination to the lock and wrote everything, extensively, not missing any detail before the dream fades. As the dream faded from my mind, I rest my back on the wall, taking in the dream I wrote. It felt so real, sometimes I forget they're just dreams and not some memories that are hidden deep inside my subconsciousness. I longed for them to be my reality and wished for the reality I'm in now to be a long nightmare.