Human Spines

Talking on a Train-II

Dumaine

        She's telling Lochlan off for misunderstanding her but suddenly her breath catches and her eyes begin to rattle. Her hands drop to her sides and her feet stop swinging. She stares forward. Nothing moves.

        "Emmeline!" I grab her hand as blood rushes to her face and her lips begin to tremble. Her entire body's heating up. Her hand feels boiled, her face, her neck, her collar are all burning red. "No, no, no! What's wrong? Emmeline!" I hold my face in front of hers, trying to get her eyes to focus.

        "Lochlan, help!" I turn to him but he's gone. Everyone's gone. I look back to Emmeline just as a tear begins to drop from her lashes. Her eyes are scarlet and her hair's become a tangled mess.

        She screams.

        There are tears streaming down her face, but she suddenly smiles. She can see me! She's laughing, her face returning to its normal color. Her eyebrows jump in surprise and she... she's sticking her finger in her mouth? She pulls it out and her eyebrows nearly pop of her head as she looks at the saliva covering it.

        "Emmeline...? You okay?"

        "But I can taste blood! And there isn't any in my mouth! But... what?" I let go of her other hand to grab her bag off her lap as she stands, reaching for her head. Her fingertips frantically dance about her forehead until she cringes, holding them just above her eyebrows. She turns to me staring at the same place on my forehead as the blood completely drains from her face. She's staring at my stitches. "I thought we were too lucky."

        "I don't understand," I respond.

        "Amistifer was trying to keep us busy when the Demons attacked you, but since you couldn't feel it, it didn't delays us for long. So now, in another attempt to postpone us, I get to feel what you should have felt. Starting... NOW!" Her hands grab her head as her body curls into itself. She gasps and straightens, her hands still covering her head. Her breathing is fast, every inhalation shaking her body. She's hyperventilating.

        Her eyes find the floor and her head dives toward it. I stall her impact, lowering her slowly.

        "DISTRACT ME!" She screams, her head on the floor, her body curled under her. I place my hand on her shivering back, unsure of what to do.

        "I'm sorry..." I tell her. I don't know how to distract her. I don't know how to help her. I don't know what to tell her.

        Hold on. Yes, I do.

        "I was born on October twelfth just outside New Orleans. My parents couldn't agree on a name for me so I have seven middle names. And two last names. And an extra name on the side that you call me." I lean down next to her. "That one's my favorite," I whisper. She sits up, her eyes red, her face wet, her nose sniffling, and looks at me like she's suddenly realized I exist.

        "Your finally gonna tell me who you are?"

        "I said I would. You just have to listen."

Twelve years ago

        "Mom...? Mom? Mom...?"

        "Yes?"

        "Where's Dad?"

        "At work. We're waiting for him."

        "Dad doesn't have a job." I laugh. "He quit." Sometimes Dad does crazy things and doesn't tell Mom and it's pretty funny.