Daisy Sun: Chapter Two- Strangers

Chapter Two: Strangers. 1

In the darkness, her body seemed to hover above the invisible coffin she had been put to rest in. Her face looked duller, and her eyes twitched repetitively as if she were trying to open them but something was forcing them shut. Her lips quivered in detest, and she seemed to lose balance in the air. Her arms were pulled out, straight across the borders of her long waist. Her black dress flapped in all directions at the bottom of her legs, but there was no wind. The air tasted old and dry, completely empty of all natural passage to the outside world. 2

I hesitantly took a step forward, unsure of my motives, but sure enough to want to help her--- as if she needed helping. The necklaces she wore cluttered against one another, as her body began rocking chaotically. I took another step forward, feeling as if I was stepping on clouds rather than a hard floor, and my mouth opened in shock as her skin began tearing away from her face. The more steps I took towards her, the more she shook, and the more she decayed. I watched the layers of skin scatter away against the invisible air fluttering her dress. They flew in all directions, in clumps, and faded into the oblivion the darkness bestowed. 3

Knowing I was the reason for her frightfully rotting speed, I stopped moving in hopes of her returning to her peaceful, meditative state. When I placed both my feet next to one another, ceasing any movement in eagerness, a sudden force pushed against my back, knocking me forward, towards her. It was as if I was tethered by a rope and being pulled towards the captor, and pretty quickly my body gave out, falling into an almost paralysed, helpless posture. Dread filled up at my core, and the horror of watching her continue to break apart caused me to gasp and scream. I didn’t know who I was screaming at, but I felt a deep presence surround the two of us; one of explicable power, forcing fate by trying to drive me towards the woman my heart battled fear against, like we were unwilling magnets, better off on our own. 4

There was no sound coming from her, just the sight of her skin disappearing off her body, leaving behind a now floating skeleton in a black dress. The necklaces fell off what was now the neck, and disappeared the way the skin did. Her dress continued to wave madly, seeming like the only thing apart of her she was trying to express. The bones began shaking against each other, sure enough ready to break; and I continued to be pulled forward, now only a few feet away from her chiselled, lifeless body.5

I felt a rough push from my back, losing whatever balance I had maintained in trying to force myself away from her, and I fell forward. My front body flew down, and my eyes opened in terror as I crashed into the bones floating. Before I felt the nausea build in literally touching her death, the bones broke apart before I could. They pulled apart, leaving behind a dress that no longer flapped, and departed in all directions around my fallen body. They circled me several of times, rapidly picking up speed, until they scattered away from my sight. 6

My body fell right through the dress, descending at an alarming speed, head first into what seemed like a black hole. My body felt no wind, but rather was crawling in hundreds of lightning bolt tingles. My eyes stung, bouncing in all directions, seeing nothing but black, as my heart thumped thunderously against the silent noise. It was not peaceful. The acceleration, the rapidity of such a forceful fall left me feeling panic and terror. My head would be the first thing to crush against whatever end there lay ahead. If there was any.7

-------
Pins and needles poked through my body, every inch of it felt icy cold and numb. There was little strength in me; the weakness prevented me from the startling jolt of reality as I opened my eyes. The dream burned through my mind, but it wasn’t the only thing I was feeling. 8

There were deep aches in every pore of my being, as if I had fallen into a pile of burning bricks. The sharp pain against my skin was enough to knock me back out into another moment of unconsciousness, towards a falling dream I would have rather chosen, surprisingly. 9

When my eyes opened again, they could not focus on anything. The pain was inconceivable, too unreal to be real. I thought I was in another dream, but I was sure dreams never hurt this much. My bones felt crushed, and my stomach felt tangled in knives. My head throbbed with every weak pulse my heart produced against my chest, giving me a sense of nausea. 10

I bounced out of consciousness several of times. Even in my short, empty dreams, the pain was real and strong. In fact, dreaming now made it worse, as if I was focusing on every wound, every twinge I was internally enduring. 11

Could I be dying?12

Even thinking required patience towards the unimaginable pain. Every now and then, short bolts of burning sensations flowed from head to toe throughout my freezing, cold body. For those instances, it was as if I were lying face first in a fire of a crematory. My body rocketed violently, as my teeth cluttered against one another. 13

Whatever was killing me, I wished it would hurry. I wanted to be done with it, to be out of the slow, agonizing misery I had found myself afflicted with. 14

My ears throbbed, desperately searching for a sound, anything to help avoid further concentration on my mysterious pain. I hoped every moment would bring me less closer to feeling, but instead, it thickened the wounds, and sharpened the knives that felt lodged into every part of my body. 15

Please stop.16

Was I in Hell? Was this how Hell felt like? Yet, what awful sin could I have committed to gain such an atrocious sentence to an eternity of this torture? Nothing seemed so bad as deserving this. 17

Every movement I made with my body, I didn’t know it. I felt only connected to the treacherous feelings that boiled wounds in every membrane of my being. It felt far too surreal to contemplate. It never seemed to end. I could not keep track of time. Time was a lost cause, being only the window I couldn’t look out of. I was uncertain of the difference between seconds, minutes and hours. For all I knew, days could have passed and it wouldn’t have made a difference. Nothing slowed, nothing lessened; the hurt continued to grow in all its magnitude, seeming hardly possible each time. 18

This went on for what felt like an eternity. I truly didn’t believe it would ever end; in fact, I found myself wondering if this was the after life after all. My thoughts scattered randomly; one moment I was begging God to end the pain, and the next I was cursing Him for such injustice. I began to wonder if He existed at all, if this was some form of a cruel joke He had in store for me. I believed I was in a far worse place than Hell, a place only the weakest, most dangerous souls resided, a place unforgiving and never ending. Only if this was such a place, where were all the others? Would I hear their personal sufferings too? Or was this just a personal imprisonment, meant only to detail God’s abandonment in me forever? 19

The more I pondered, the more my mind began to clear up. Confusion was strong, but I began to think of other things that didn’t involve my anguish. Faces of my life appeared before me, light as day, and I could sense a happiness as small as a freckle of salt in breaking away the darkness. 20

I imagined my family, or at least tried to. The torment was difficult to overcome when it came to imagining anything. Yet their names flowed through my mind, and it didn’t matter so much when it came to seeing them in my head. My heart coloured against my chest when I declared my deep love for them, a love they were never going to see me give to them. Sadness was an escape to pain I would have more than embraced, and I kept it close to me as I scanned deeply into my mind. 21

I lost track of much of the wounds that were piercing against me, but after such a deep amount of concentration towards my sadness, I realized that the pain was lessening. It lessened only in fractions, but anything was better than the peak of it. 22

I regained consciousness more willingly this time. My eyes took a long while to learn to see again, but they moved about despite the great strength it took for me to do so. My ears slowed its rhythmic pacing, and sound felt delicate to my ears. 23

I hadn’t realized I was groaning so loudly. My voice sounded scratchy and worn out, straining my vocal cords. My mouth was dry as sand, and closing my lips felt almost like rubbing them against ashes. There was little fluid that found its way in. Blood. I opened my mouth to shake the taste of it, and my eyes adjusted to the dimness all around me. 24

I was more than surprised to feel the hard surface below me. I was in a greater surprise when I felt its coldness against the left side of my body. My temperature was still cool, but not as frozen as before, and feeling the hard ground was a personal joy. Here and there the same bolt-like sensations burst through my body, leaving me crippled in its clinch until it passed. 25

Exhaustion was a new feeling that blanketed me. It wasn’t highly unexpected, but it was definitely new against the agony of before. I wasn’t going to sleep though, I was rather tired of the darkness, and wanted a change. 26

Though I was still weak and brittle, I focused hard on moving my body slowly. When I tried turning an inch, I was terrified if I would feel pain or not, but when it passed, and no greater pain interrupted me, I continued to move in tiny bits. 27

Shapes appeared before my eyes, for they were still bouncing about crazily. I couldn’t make them out exactly, but there was a range of them, all together throughout the tiny room. 28

Tiny. 29

Where was I? It hardly mattered anymore, I was too focused on ridding the pain that continued to lessen as each moment-- or however long a moment was to me-- passed. 30

Still. The question echoed in my mind, overpowering my other questions and meandering thoughts. It was a curiosity I more than feared to discover. 31

It was strange I didn’t expect waking up to something else, like a hospital for example. It was strange that the tiny room felt more than hospitable to me than it should have. Perhaps it was because I was so convinced I was dead, and burning in Hell, that waking up to this was a piece of miracle in its self. 32

My groans continued to bellow out of me, sometimes louder and sometimes quieter. I had a few sudden urges to scream at the top of my lungs, but that would have evaporated all strength in me. I continued to lay down, summing up every fickle of energy I could. 33

Sweat showered my face before I realized the fever I was already in deep with. My pulse battered against my temples, inconsistent to each heart beat. Paining sensations continued to spring up randomly, gaining on a frequent basis now. This time it seemed to focus on certain parts of my body. Sometimes my mouth would feel an indescribable spasm of multiple aches, and I would have to clench my teeth together, barely caring if they shattered atop one another, only hoping for it to pass. My eyes would be victim to such aches, feeling more burnt than throbbing, and even my heart endured its ravaging nuisance, hurting me the most above all other parts. 34

I was on my belly now. My cheek rested on the stony, cold floor, feeling bruised and scratched. My nose took in the air around me, as numerous scents reached me with familiarity. I couldn’t separate some items, but many were clear to me, such as the scent of mixed spices and cartons of dusty boxes. I picked up something sweet and rotten at the same time, but couldn’t detail what it was. 35

Where am I? 36

My head reluctantly raised a few inches, turning about the small, windowless room. I unlocked my arms from below me, and spaced them far apart on the floor, taking in more of the coldness. It didn’t bother me now that I was steaming with a fever. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to stand, much less sit up. What I figured I could do was crawl, as ridiculous as that may have sounded.37

I pushed myself forward, although I didn’t know where I was going. My legs hit a few hard items, and the clink of glass sounded to my ears before I realized they must have been jars. My heart beat erratically against my chest, begging me not to continue forward and that I was wasting too much of the strength I took so long in regaining. I didn’t seem to want to listen anymore, and I continued to crawl about the room, stretching out my arms and feeling numerous things. I focused on the wall, and whenever my hand rested upon it, I followed it about the room, almost deciding to circle it, yet I was still unsure of what I was looking for. 38

I scanned taking as much time as possible, making sure to rest in between movements so I could breathe right before I continued. By this time, my body was beginning to feel more sore than pained, and each movement tensed my muscles and stiffened my bones. A few times my fever grew so strongly throughout my body that I dry heaved numerously, awaiting something to come out of my burning throat. Acidic fluid sizzled back down, causing me to cough and breathe rapidly. 39

I hadn’t realized the water that was coming out of my eyes until the salted taste of it reached my lips and numbed my tongue. My vision began blurring against the darkness, and I had to blink continually to regain some clarity. My nails chipped into my skin as I roughly pressed my hands about the walls and unrecognizable items, feeling redundant and hopeless. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, and I quickly regretted diminishing the strength I had gathered for so long. But I couldn’t just lay about, even if I was in no state to move in the first place. I was not the type of person, under any circumstances, to wait something out. Maybe this showed some part of strength in me that I had not yet known until put to the test. 40

I felt so utterly defeated that I began sobbing against my groans. Was I going in circles? What was I looking for? What was the point? Would I die here? My heart ached in response to every question, and my sanity felt threatened against the paranoia that continued to access most of my brain. 41

Slowing down, I took a deep breath and allowed myself to have a moment’s rest. For a long while my face rested rigidly on the rock hard floor as my breathing caught up with my heart and the nerves slowed their ferocity. I cried for so long that my eyes felt sore and itchy, and my throat heaved painfully forward, tired of my force and sadistic emotions. 42

My eyes began drying, and no tears watered my eyes. My body lay limp and fragile. I continued to breathe for however long a moment that passed by before I turned my head once more ahead of me. Groaning, I weakly stretched out my right arm directly straight from me. What I felt was unlike the hardness of the walls I spent so long with. This was much different. 43

My eyes shot open, and I begged myself not to turn to any renewal of hope that now seemed lost to me. I continued to feel the less hardened wall before I then scratched my frail nails against it. As I continued this, I felt something sting my middle finger. I pulled my hand away and hugged it to my chest, with more curiosity than pain. I rested my other fingers upon it, wondering where the pain came from before I realized what it was. 44

A sliver. 45

My head rushed back ahead, and both my hands stretched out, as I began feeling more strength I hadn’t known was in me. 46

It’s not a wall. It’s not a wall.47

The line ran through my mind, overlapping my inner voice, becoming louder in my head as I continued to repeat it. 48

It’s a door. It’s a door. 49

Without thinking further, my palms slammed against it, as hard as I could possibly allow in my state. I pushed myself further, and pounded with my fists, my knuckles, my nails… The pain soared through me as I realized my skin was tearing off, bleeding against the wooden door. I barely cared. 50

I thought about screaming again. The impulse threw my mouth open, but I knew it would suck out a large amount of my power. I relied solely on the noise, hoping it would reach the ears of whoever it was that threw me in here to begin with.51

The fear when I heard the steps caused my knocks to sound lighter. I recalled the incident that brought me here, in a room that seemed to call for my imprisonment. Was that my purpose here? To be trapped like a prisoner? It seemed to be the only thing that made sense, or else I would have been in a warm bed, drugged up from all the pain I had endured. The reminder of it sent unwanted shivers throughout my feverish body. 52

I heard voices on the other side. They sounded muffled at first, but the more I concentrated, the more clearer they became. 53

“Is that her?”54

“Who else could it be?”55

“Why isn’t she screaming still?”56

“Is it over?”57

I couldn’t identify with the voices. Each tone sounded different and yet the same at once. My hope continued despite the fear that there was more than just one. All odds were against me. 58

Who was I kidding? The odds had always been against me, from the first moment I walked away from the cab. The regret was like a punishment, making me feel choked up with dry tears again. 59

A noise above startled me. A squeaking turn of the door handle brought on more nerves and anxiety. When it opened, there was no light that showed in its creases. It was still dark as night. 60

“Get back.” I heard a voice say. 61

It was a female one. A small, petit voice that barely fit the one I had imagined it to be. Instead of rough and cold, she sounded cautious and firm. 62

Instantly, I pushed myself back a few feet, keeping my eyes up at the unknown figure I couldn’t see.63

“Are you in pain?” She then asked.64

The question threw me off guard. Being talked to after such an ordeal felt surreal and unlikely. 65

“Are you in pain?” She repeated, with a more hostile voice.66

“Yes.” I found myself saying, though it was almost a whisper. I didn’t know whether she heard it or not.67

“What’s hurting?” 68

I thought a moment, as strange as that may sound. The aches in me still led their own pulse throughout my body, but the worst was over, at least I hoped so. 69

“My head.” I finally said, a little louder than before.70

She was quiet on the other side. There was absolutely no movement, and for a moment I thought she had gone. Only then did I hear a short sigh.71

“Are you hungry?” She asked. There was something deeper in her tone in the way she said this.72

“Yes.” I replied, feeling the hollowness in my stomach.73

“What exactly is it that you’re hungry for?”74

Again, the question caught me off guard. I felt confused and unsure of how to respond. I couldn’t remember what I liked to eat, what their names were, or anything for that matter. I was still very panicky and frightened. Very, very frightened.75

“I don’t know.” I replied, finally. 76

She was quiet again, but this time I knew she had not left.77

“You need to stay here for a while longer.” She then told me with a much more sincere sound in her voice. “I’ll be back with something to eat shortly.”78

The door closed, leaving me speechless and confused. How long was I going to be in this room for? Why was she feeding me after all that happened? I thought the whole point of being thrown into the room in the first place was to die, so feeding me didn’t make much sense. 79

I curled myself into a ball, putting my knees into my chest as I wrapped my arms around them tightly. My head pained severely, causing me to whimper and quicken my breath. My eyes shut, swimming into the colourful swirls of light that tossed about in the blackness. Shivers ran up and down my spine as if I was cold, but my skin felt exceedingly warm, almost like I was on fire. Despite this, I wanted something to wrap myself around, something protective, like a blanket. It felt like such a great waste --- surviving a torturous stage only to face a smouldering fever that could very well kill me. 80

I wished it would be over. I wished it so much as my lips quivered over one another and my chest buckled deeper into my knees. My mouth opened, only to release empty vomits, and my eyes dragged about the room, as tiny sparks formed before me. I knew I was going to fall unconscious again, and I was much too tired to fight it. This time, I hoped I wouldn’t wake up. 81

-----
When my eyes opened, they didn’t hurt so much like before. I was still in a curled ball, only my arms were weakly folded into one another instead of my legs. For some reason, I sensed a lot of time had lapsed after my last unconscious episode. I couldn’t recall whether I dreamt, but unidentifiable images ran through me, of shapes and faces that felt fresh to me. 82

I unbuckled my legs and stretched them out, feeling an unbelievable burst of soreness all down my lower body. My stomach grumbled, reminding me of the hunger I had been deprived of for who knew how long. I put an arm over it, and then reached underneath my shirt, trying to soothe it with my sweaty touch. I felt sticky all over, and my senses told me I must not have smelled too well either. 83

I quickly noticed my movements, and how they weren’t as stiff and broken as before. Strangely, despite my evident weakness, I felt an inescapable strength, surging throughout my body. I took my time sitting up, wondering whether there was anything shattered inside me. I felt intact with every part of my body, and I moved every limb just to make sure. I swayed with the dizziness in sitting up finally, but I focused on the nothingness ahead to ground myself. 84

The silence in my surrounding was indescribably eerie. I could hear my own pulse, my steady breaths, and the inactive air in the tiny, cramped room. I sat, slumped, for a long while before I could make an effort in sorting my web of confusion. 85

So far, the only true, agonizing pain I felt came from my right arm, which I still couldn’t see in the darkness. My fingers traced over the wound that was sickeningly deep, and long, like a narrow valley along the surface of my skin. I could separate the wound from the thick, dried blood, chipping away at my nails. As I skimmed the edges of the wound, it felt bumpy, adding to the pain a stinging sensation. I eventually put my hand away, unable to diminish the growing nausea in my throat. 86

The shapes all around me appeared vividly now as my eyes fully adjusted. I didn’t care anymore where I was, I had a yearning to get out of the tiny space, into the fresh air. I didn’t even know what time of the day it was, but it felt like a long, endless night. 87

Understandably, my mind could not help but take on its own train of thought. I felt suddenly eager to know what happened to me the night of my attack, but I couldn’t think of anything that made sense. I remembered flying off the sidewalk, in a tight embrace, and slamming against the wall of an alley. I remembered the pain in my arm, the certainty of my death, and the silence that unexpectedly followed. Everything was a blur though, nothing made sense against my memories. Whatever the truth was, I knew it was not something I could perceive as reality. 88

No, I shook my head in knowing this. What happened to me was entirely unnatural. It was like a nightmare graved into the world of reality, and impossibility was thrown out the door, no longer something to consider. 89

The more I wondered, the more confused I was. I couldn’t understand how the pain in being thrown into a wall could have effected me so deeply afterwards. The unavoidable agony that swept my body came from something entirely different, yet I could not come up with a rational explanation. 90

My eyes wandered back to the door, where the voice had come from. There were other voices as well, but only she had been talking to me. I thought about pounding at the door once more, and screaming this time, but there didn’t seem to be a point in doing so. 91

Something at the bottom of the door had then caught my eye. It was a shape on the floor that caused me to crawl towards it, until I was a foot away. It didn’t take me long to recognize what it was, for the smells caught my nose instantly, causing me to anxiously throw my hands over the plate and neatly arranged food. 92

It was a sandwich, that was already something I understood as I bit into it, hungrily. I couldn’t taste what it was, my mouth seemed more eager to swallow than to savour it. My stomach churned in pain and delight, an odd mix that begged me to continue as quickly as possible. Tiny bits of the bread remained in my mouth, unable to swallow, until I focused on the glass of water beside the plate. I had to grasp the glass with both my hands, holding it tightly against my shaking so that it didn’t fall or spill. 93

The feeling was unlike any other. The fluid melted my tongue, burning my throat with its sweet reminder. I gulped it down, coughing in between as the air bubbles choked me, and I sat in a state of awe, feeling its coolness flow down my throat, down my chest and into my stomach. I was swept with another wave of nausea, but it didn’t bother me anymore, not after the water. I turned back to my sandwich, taking in big bites, chewing it more speedily. It slid into my throat more effortlessly, and the taste buds returned, as I recognized the taste of chicken bologna. 94

When I finished it, which didn’t take too long at all, I rested my back against the door, wrapping my arms around my stomach. The hunger still ached through me, punching the edges of my insides, wanting more. I had to look up to the invisible ceiling in order to keep the food down. As discomforting as it was, I felt reassurance in knowing that I would not die from starvation or dehydration. In fact, I felt oddly secure from death altogether. Perhaps it was defeating a near death pain, and a smouldering fever that made me feel triumphant in remaining in the world. I wouldn’t want to die from something as plain as malnutrition. No, I wanted something more creative, something more menacing than what I faced. Then again, it didn’t appear likely for there to be such a death that could overpower those two combined. 95

Disturbing me from my thoughts was a sudden knock from the door, causing me to jump and crawl several feet away. The glass fell to its side, though it was empty, I heard it crack. The door’s handle jiggled and a creak followed as the door opened.96

It shocked me to finally recognize an outline of the figure that stood before me. The head turned to the ground, to the empty glass and empty plate. It seemed to stand solid for several moments, as if taking in a considerable amount of thought. 97

“Are you still hungry?” 98

The voice was not of a female’s, and it should have frightened me that it wasn’t. Yet, there was a kind, softness to the low tone that didn’t make my heart beat so erratically as it was supposed to. 99

“Yes.” I answered, speaking more from my hungry side than that of my rational side. 100

“Alright, I’ll get you something else.”101

I expected the figure to turn and close back the door, but it didn’t work out that way. Instead, his broad frame remained in between the door, completely dark and unreadable. I couldn’t even see anything from behind him, but I barely bothered to focus on that irrelevant detail. 102

“You know,” he then added to my surprise, in a lighter sound, “there’s a light switch in here. You could have turned on the light if you wanted to. I don’t think Ruth would disconnect the power to here.”103

I took me a long while to process what he just told me. Every word sounded foreign to me until I broke it down and relied on my memory.104

“Do I have to stay in here?” I asked him, trying to keep my voice steady, but I knew I failed. 105

He was quiet for another moment, as if he was unsure himself. Then I heard a long exhale, far longer than natural, as his frame hovered a few inches to his right.106

“You’ll be able to get out of the room soon. Although even then we’d have to be cautious of your intentions. We can’t risk the thought of you running away.”107

“I won’t run away.” I retorted, almost too quickly. 108

“Really?” He sounded supremely doubtful. “Because I strongly believe you would. I wouldn’t blame you, but I would suggest you keep an open mind as to what you’re going to learn in the next few days.”109

His words were such a quick blur, my mind deciphered them anxiously.110

“Next few days?” I repeated, feeling my head shake. “I can’t wait that long. I can’t…” My throat felt crowded with emotions, and my eyes already burned with tears. “I don’t know what’s going on… I don’t know what’s happening to me…”111

The stranger was quiet for a moment, but I could already feel his eyes on me. Even through the darkness I felt completely readable. 112

“The pain,” he started, with a surprising combination of emotions, “it’s something we’ve all been through. The situations are different, the changes are obviously distinct, but the pain has always been the same when the infection takes us over.”113

I couldn’t understand what he was saying, my mind wasn’t quick enough to offer a reply. He seemed to catch my expression, though I don’t know how, beneath the darkness.114

“I’ll get you out of here soon.” He finally said. “You’ll be in a bed shortly. I guarantee it. Just give me a few hours, and Ruth will be here. In the meantime, I’ll get you some more food. Just sit tight.”115

He closed the door softly, leaving me muddled with what was spoken. I quickly tried piecing together the conversation, more of his words near the end that I couldn’t decipher in time. He recognized the pain I endured, yet what did he mean the situation was different? And how was it that he felt the same pain as I? Then he mentioned an infection. Had I been infected? 116

It was exasperating, trying to piece things that didn’t make sense together. I felt pathetic for trying to rationalize it, for trying to uncover the mystery I was already in. It felt almost like putting together a puzzle blindly; endless possibilities entered my mind, yet they left half finished. 117

It wasn’t long before the handle turned again, and the door creaked back to life. Only this time, a hand reached across the wall to a switch I never knew was there. In a motionless effort, the light crowded the room, taking on every corner, every shape, and every hidden mystery I had been trying to understand.