Page 15 of Demonic Cage
I can barely make it out of the bathroom, and I stumble on the single step. Grabbing onto one of the wooden frames to steady myself, I then go straight to Nathan.
He stands motionless, arms crossed by the table, just as I left him. He glares at me with a peppered look, then stares, shocked at my brave cleavage. I purse my lips as I see Darya’s chair standing empty. I use the small table to prop myself up, then the next moment, I collapse onto the soft, cushioned bench.
“Where is Darya?”
Nathan stares at me in confusion. “Who?”
I blink. So, I just imagined him. This is evidence that I need my medication, or I’ll live in the company of my dream shadow.
I close my eyes and lean my head against the pale blue wall. I’m so sweetly dizzy, as if on a white pony on a carousel, with a piano gently playing in the background.
“Did you take something?” Nathan asks tensely.
“Just the usual,” I say with a wave, and, despite being seated, I lose my balance. Nathan catches me before I fall off the chair.
“How much did you take?”
“Hmm…” I start counting with my fingers conspicuously, but my hand is so strange that I get stuck at two.
“Two?!” Nathan’s voice is so forceful that I clap my hands to my ears. He grabs my shoulder.
“Lotte! I called your parents. They're coming for you. I think you’ve overdosed. This is not okay…”
“Shut up, Nathan!” The room wobbles around me. “You have no idea how this feels… No… not Maya, not… you…”
“Look at me, Lotte! You don’t know what you’re talking about, and please, zip up! Everyone’s staring at us!”
“It’s odd… I thought you liked it.”
Nathan just glares at me sternly.
“Alright, alright!” I concede and start playing with the zipper. No, I won’t pull it up, after all. “Why can’t I come to your apartment?”
Nathan’s face darkens with annoyance.
“I don’t want you to be there right now. Get up and come outside with me!”
“Fine, I’ll come with you, but then you’re to leave and not come back. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
Nathan doesn’t take the claim seriously and helps me up. I have barely managed a wobbly step when Darya shows up.
I stare at him with wide eyes. So, I… I wasn’t imagining him after all?
He speaks, but I don’t understand what he’s saying. The words are strange. I’ve never heard anything like it. Like sharp stones hitting each other as he speaks.
Nathan grabs my arm. “Do you understand what he’s saying?”
I look at Darya, whose hair looks like it’s adorned with rare white raven feathers. His eyebrow rises, but his face remains calm.
“No,” I admit, before addressing Darya. “Why don’t I understand what you’re saying?”
His eyes scrutinize my face, for what feels like an eternity.
Nathan pulls me forcefully. I feel the pain, but I don’t care. I’m dazed. Suddenly, sharp, icy fingers interlock with my free hand. Darya grasps me gently, yet firmly.
“I don’t think we’re done yet,” he says in French, but with an interesting accent I can’t place.
“I really don’t care!” Nathan sneers, drawing closer to me. “Don’t you understand what’s happening? Who knows how many pills she took, but what she’s on is a brutally strong antidepressantandantipsychotic. She has one or two hours, or maybe even less time, then she’ll collapse. She’ll lose consciousness. We need to get her to a doctor!”
