The Cult of Romeo

XX. Greek Tragedy

Act 3, Scene 3

My eyes had only been closed for a few excruciating seconds but after a light tap on my cheeks, I was awake again. Khaleel was crouched beside me, eyes wide with worry. 

"Fucking hell, Charlie!" He exclaimed when our eyes met. "I thought you'd dropped dead." 

"Yeah you'd bloody love that, wouldn't you, Khaleel?" I scoffed and propped myself onto my elbows. My mind was scattered and I was seeing double through my unconcentrated gaze. He placed a hand onto my shoulder gently but I pushed through my exhaustion and knocked it away. "It's just my narcolepsy, idiot." 

Then, without his aid, I dragged myself to lean against the vanity desk. My head lolled to the side and I struggled to keep my eyes open but refused to let my guard down in front of Khaleel anymore. 

My head was going around and around in circles with a deep confusion that made my whole body ache. One second I was sure that Mr Donaue was behind it all but from the guilt that washed over Khaleel's face, I knew he had written the threat. I didn't understand any of it. I should have listed to Julien, though. That was one thing I was sure of. 

"Wait, you think I killed them, don't you?" Hurt dripped from his words but I refused to feel sorry for him. How could I when it was possible that he'd done imaginable things? 

"No, don't worry about it. I'm sure many young people have the habit of writing anonymous death threats. Right?" I slurred sarcastically. 

"Charlie, I was with you when Jackie was stabbed!"

"How the hell do I know what you did whilst I slept in the library?!" I protested. "Were you really getting me tea or perhaps you were sharpening your knives?" 

I almost felt a slither of remorse tinge at my chest when the look in his eyes turned pleading. He was hunched down in front of me but at this point, I could barely open my eyes. His hands were intertwined together as he begged for my trust. That was something I couldn't give, though. Not when I'd seen his betrayal with my very own eyes. My father had always taught me to trust my visions before anyone else. 

In the corner of my eye, I saw a figure who slunk back into the darknesses and towered over Khaleel and me. By the time I'd opened my mouth to say something, it was too late. The shadow knocked my friend over the head with something that looked like a bat and I once again passed out along with him.

X X X

I had a crick in my neck when I woke up. My backside was numb, my body aflame and overall, still severely confused. I heaved out a sigh and felt the pain as it radiated from my wrists behind me. 

"Charlie?" A familiar voice called out. Khaleel. 

That's when it all came back to me and I realised the situation I had found myself in. Stuck on an old wooden chair by my hands that bound me to Khaleel who sat behind, his back to mine. 

"What the hell?" My voice was surprisingly shaky and I think it scared Khaleel because he began to pull on the rope between us so that it burned against my skin. I felt sick from nervousness and the vodka that tore through my stomach.

"Sit still," I growled. 

"I don't know where we are," he confessed. "But I've been awake for probably more than ten minutes." 

I lifted my eyes to the dark room we had found ourselves in. It was lined with racks of costumes along the perimeter, a rush of faint yellow light from the door that had been left ajar. Shoes were scattered across the floor with mirrors and makeup along the side. My head throbbed.