The Fairy, The Witch and Lost Items

6. Consequences.

In its dress of the color of gall and poison, the corpse of my reason trails upon the Thames.

The Dead By Emile Verhaeren.

Recalling these days, Terry will remember them with a positive view. 

"It was a hell of a ride, but at least I learnt my lessons, and generally, it was worth it," she will say later, picturing these events. 

But it will be a half-truth. The second half should be something like this: "I almost went crazy these days, and I have no idea why it was 'almost' and not 'completely'."

It was a hell of a ride, and it was just a beginning.

She couldn't even remember how she managed to get here, everything was under a veil. The hotel room was small, but comfy, but she barely noticed that, being too broken to even move in a straight. Terry was yet to fully understand what was happening to her body, but it was a clear cry for help.

Simply collapsed on the bed, allowed herself a five minutes just to lay down still, but when she opened her eyes, it was already evening — she didn't even realize that she felt asleep.

"Dammit", she said out loud, "if it's gonna be that way every time, I'll never catch her." 

Sickness rolled in, and when she stood up, she swayed and had to grab a wall to stay on her feet and barely kept herself from the tears. Terry was desperately trying to be on the positive side, but right now, her nearby future was grim. What is going on? It's because of this...action I've done?

Slowly, she got herself into the bathroom, grabbed the washstand, and opened cold water. Then, after a second hesitation, she decisively put her head right under the stream. Now she was all wet, but generally felt herself a bit better. That much better, in fact, that she even was able to return to the bedroom, leaving the mess in the bathroom.

Get yourself together. It was a nice shower, but you need to change clothes. Come on.

With a loud grunt, she methodically took off her clothes one by one, leaving them on the floor. Shivering, she cocooned herself in the blanket and sat on the bed. Dammit, Edith. Look what I have to overcome to find you.

It was a first time a demon of doubt had visited her; it was a voice in her head, a voice she hated to hear because it was her own. Maybe to hell all of it? Perhaps we can just sleep overnight and in the morning return home?

"Shut up!" She wanted to yell it, but it was barely louder than a whisper. I will move forward. I can't lose her.

Terry was desperately trying to not think about the scenario, where she finally finds her, but Edith will just say something like oh, it's so nice of you to do all that to find me, but we're parting our ways. Sorry, dear.

Perhaps I then will just go and catch a bus with my face. It will be less painful. She gritted her teeth.

Then a good part of her inner, this part that in every situation didn't lose her head, this adult, this almost two hundred-year-old woman said another thing. Regardless of this, she knows almost nothing about the world around. She needs you as much as you need her.

With that, Terry leaned back to the headboard and started to recall.

***

What.

The heartbeat was crazy, she was all sweaty and tired, like after a good run uphill, and her head was all spinning. She found a bench nearby and sat, exhausted. For a good minute, she just enjoyed the stillness.