Some Thing Called Myself (Complete)

IX: something foolish

Ch. 9: Something Foolish

Everything changed too much, too fast. First, it was the broken quiet.

After Elena barged into the infirmary, Mara and Bernardo were led through the cold, confusing staircases in the HQ, passing by walls covered with missing posters, photos of people from different centuries, and faded printouts of parties and events. Mara and Elena should be the only ones heading to the council on the seventh floor. Still, Bernardo's loud complaints dragged a small crowd out of the many rooms in the place.

As the crowd grew, their murmurs added to the loud metallic noise of Elena's, Bernardo's, and Mara's shoes on the iron steps.

Then, it was the broken calm.

"I don't care about the patrols and the late-night drills! Double my fucking workload if you want; just please don't do this," Bernardo said as he rushed behind Elena. "Please, please. This is not funny, Mother!"

Elena snorted. "Good, because it's not a joke. I have a right to conscript humans if I think it's right, Bernardo. In this case, I know it is."

"No. Mother, wait!"

Finally, it was the nagging idea that Mara had no choice anymore.

Elena glanced over her shoulder at her. "Are you okay, Mara? We still have two more flights ahead of us."

"I'm...actually, no. I think...I need a moment." Her words sounded as queasy as she felt. Mara shut her eyes. She willed her head to stop spinning and her stomach to calm down. She'd always feel like this when things started to spiral out of control. Mara was almost used to it by now. Almost. "Bathroom? Please?"

Elena's expression soured. She furrowed her brows and stopped on the next intermediate landing. "Go ahead; I'll wait for you here." She stuck a thumb out to show a wide door on the fifth floor. "You stay, Bernardo. If you want to accompany her during the meeting, you'll do as I say."

Bernardo opened and closed his thin lips, then let out a strained huff. "Call me if you need me, all right?"

Mara nodded, not really registering anything around her. Her head hurt, and something in her stomach gurgled and burned. She was hungry. She was angry. She climbed down the few steps to the lower floor and slapped the bathroom door open. Mara was welcomed by a dark-gray bathroom where the only light came from a faulty yellow light bulb on the back wall. Her breathing shallowed, her breath grating its way in and out. Mara's vision blurred, and she ran to the sink. Spreading her sweaty palms on the cold ceramic felt good.

She turned the faucet on and leaned down to wash her face.

This wasn't happening. Being conscripted? Being forced into service?

Mara's throat contracted, and she hunched forward to hold her head with both hands. It felt so heavy and ached so much that it felt like it was about to pop from her neck and roll on the floor. Her fingertips pressed the sides of her head, and her nails scratched her temples in fear, then regret, then desperation...until a tiny bit, a very little piece of something got stuck between one of her split fingernails. Frowning, Mara pulled it. Frowning even more, she tugged at it again, stronger this time.

It felt like peeling off a layer of dry glue from her head. The mysterious something came out with a sick pop, making a dense, cold liquid ooze down her head.

The hairs on her arms stood on end. Mara brought that something in front of her eyes and studied the tiny chunk of greyish flesh and the thick black hairs attached to it.

It was a dead piece of her scalp; she was sure of it.

What the fuck?

Someone entered the bathroom behind her, and Mara tossed the disgusting thing aside.