saying.” Her voice rose an octave. “I’m losing you, I can feel it!”
I stared at her. Even slower, I said, this time clear as day, “I don’t want to be lost.” I leaned forward out of her lap then pulled myself across the floor, tortoise-like. I felt the synapses in my brain, each one, firing slower and slower until they barely sputtered. My goal was only inches away, though. I was almost close enough.
One more tug and I was there, at the wall. I yanked out the computer charger that took up the whole electrical socket, then reached my hand out and closed my eyes. I touched the socket; a current flowed out, into my finger. I pushed harder against the holes. As though it was made of clay, my finger squished in on itself, sliding deeper to press harder into the warm electric wave.
Lucy screamed, and the lights surged in the room. I felt the first true sensation I’d felt since waking up on that cold metal table. I felt warmth.
Electricity flowed through my finger, up my arm, then through my entire body. My brain came back to life, synapses shooting off fireworks of color and light behind my eyelids. My toes tingled and the remaining hairs on my arms and legs stood upright.
I stayed attached to the wall socket for five minutes, until I finally felt like I’d be steady on my feet. I pulled away, ignoring the singed and smoldering skin left behind on the plastic, ignoring the blackened bits remaining on my hand, and turned to Lucy. She’d stopped screaming after the first power surge, but looked pale and nauseated, so I smoothed the hair on my head back down and tried to smile. “I feel better now,” I said. The mask on my face crumbled to dust around my mouth.
“I’m glad,” she said, panting. She leaned back against the wall, her knees and hands shaking, and she nodded her head.
“Thanks.”
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“Me, too. Maybe we should fix my cord? I think I messed up my fingers doing it the digital way.” I tried another green smile.
“Digital?”
“Yeah, digital.” I wagged my fingers. “Digits. Get it?”
“I got it. It’s just not funny.”
“I know.” I changed the subject. “I heard from my mom. She emailed, panicking. But I calmed her down.”
“Good.” She patted my head. The crackle of static electricity was loud in the thin, dry air.
“I heard from Eli, too.”
Lucy sat up straight, popping back to life. “Eli. Right. We need to go see him. Come on, get up. Let’s get you cleaned up!”
“A re you sure?” I said to Lucy. I was nervous.
She looked at my face, her mouth in a tight line, considering. After a minute she said, “Well, I don’t think I can get you to look much better, honestly. Your skin looks less pasty, and most of the stitches are under your sunglasses. Everything else is covered up. You still don’t look right, but I just don’t know what else to do for you. I’m not exactly a makeup artist.”
I nodded. She was right; Lucy barely wore any makeup. Ever. She was gorgeous enough without it.
We stood in my room in front of the long mirror. It had taken me the better part of two hours to scrub my body clean so Lucy could no longer smell me from across the room. I’d have to be careful when washing moving forward, though. My skin was starting to slough off in some spots, especially near my hands and feet, leaving dry, crusty-looking sores. They were just more flaws I’d have to keep hidden, since I didn’t have much hope of healing on my own. The fewer spots with missing skin, the longer I could pass for normal. Based on the speed with which I was falling apart, I probably wouldn’t have a lot of time.
“But am I doing the right thing?”
“I think earlier today you had two choices.” Lucy held my hand, tucked into an old glove. “You could have gone to a hospital or the police, and they would have helped you in one way, right?” I wasn’t sure, but I thought her voice sounded thick, choked up. Like she was trying
I stared at her. Even slower, I said, this time clear as day, “I don’t want to be lost.” I leaned forward out of her lap then pulled myself across the floor, tortoise-like. I felt the synapses in my brain, each one, firing slower and slower until they barely sputtered. My goal was only inches away, though. I was almost close enough.
One more tug and I was there, at the wall. I yanked out the computer charger that took up the whole electrical socket, then reached my hand out and closed my eyes. I touched the socket; a current flowed out, into my finger. I pushed harder against the holes. As though it was made of clay, my finger squished in on itself, sliding deeper to press harder into the warm electric wave.
Lucy screamed, and the lights surged in the room. I felt the first true sensation I’d felt since waking up on that cold metal table. I felt warmth.
Electricity flowed through my finger, up my arm, then through my entire body. My brain came back to life, synapses shooting off fireworks of color and light behind my eyelids. My toes tingled and the remaining hairs on my arms and legs stood upright.
I stayed attached to the wall socket for five minutes, until I finally felt like I’d be steady on my feet. I pulled away, ignoring the singed and smoldering skin left behind on the plastic, ignoring the blackened bits remaining on my hand, and turned to Lucy. She’d stopped screaming after the first power surge, but looked pale and nauseated, so I smoothed the hair on my head back down and tried to smile. “I feel better now,” I said. The mask on my face crumbled to dust around my mouth.
“I’m glad,” she said, panting. She leaned back against the wall, her knees and hands shaking, and she nodded her head.
“Thanks.”
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“Me, too. Maybe we should fix my cord? I think I messed up my fingers doing it the digital way.” I tried another green smile.
“Digital?”
“Yeah, digital.” I wagged my fingers. “Digits. Get it?”
“I got it. It’s just not funny.”
“I know.” I changed the subject. “I heard from my mom. She emailed, panicking. But I calmed her down.”
“Good.” She patted my head. The crackle of static electricity was loud in the thin, dry air.
“I heard from Eli, too.”
Lucy sat up straight, popping back to life. “Eli. Right. We need to go see him. Come on, get up. Let’s get you cleaned up!”
“A re you sure?” I said to Lucy. I was nervous.
She looked at my face, her mouth in a tight line, considering. After a minute she said, “Well, I don’t think I can get you to look much better, honestly. Your skin looks less pasty, and most of the stitches are under your sunglasses. Everything else is covered up. You still don’t look right, but I just don’t know what else to do for you. I’m not exactly a makeup artist.”
I nodded. She was right; Lucy barely wore any makeup. Ever. She was gorgeous enough without it.
We stood in my room in front of the long mirror. It had taken me the better part of two hours to scrub my body clean so Lucy could no longer smell me from across the room. I’d have to be careful when washing moving forward, though. My skin was starting to slough off in some spots, especially near my hands and feet, leaving dry, crusty-looking sores. They were just more flaws I’d have to keep hidden, since I didn’t have much hope of healing on my own. The fewer spots with missing skin, the longer I could pass for normal. Based on the speed with which I was falling apart, I probably wouldn’t have a lot of time.
“But am I doing the right thing?”
“I think earlier today you had two choices.” Lucy held my hand, tucked into an old glove. “You could have gone to a hospital or the police, and they would have helped you in one way, right?” I wasn’t sure, but I thought her voice sounded thick, choked up. Like she was trying
Similar Books
