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  I kept under the water, rubbing and scrubbing, until I couldn't handle it any longer. Taking a deep breath, I looked up into the mirror. And almost screamed again.

  They were still black, but now they were shiny as if I'd washed them squeaky clean. It was even stranger to see them sparkle in the low fluorescent light of the bathroom. The tar like streaks were gone, washed off, but that was about all that had changed.

  Fear still gripped me tight, but some of it had abated a bit to allow me to study myself. No pain shot through me. It wasn't as if something had ruptured inside my head and was now bleeding out from my eyes. Something else made my eyes fully black, something I was sure now had everything to do with my short death. Even if it was for only seven minutes.

  I turned my head this way and that trying to understand where the dark taint came from. And why it was happening. As I twisted my neck back and forth, my vision changed and shifted. I'm not exactly sure how but I began to see things differently. It was as if objects had another layer on top of them. When I looked at the toilet in the mirror, I could see it plain as day, but it looked like another toilet was superimposed on top of the original. An overexposed photo. As if I was looking at two spliced into one.

  It didn't scare me. I actually thought it was kind of cool. Everything in the bathroom took on a different light and texture. As if I was seeing more than what was just evident or obvious.

  A loud knock came at the door jolting me. "Salem, are you okay in there?" My mom's voice was shrill.

  I scrambled with the trash trying to shove the blackened paper towels to the bottom of the can. "I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute." I glanced back into the mirror and saw a glint of green. I grabbed the rim of the sink and leaned into the glass, my nose nearly touching. The black was gone. Vanished. My eyes were back to normal.

  I blinked several times testing to see if the dark film would come back. It didn't.

  And maybe it hadn't been there at all.

  Taking more paper towel I finished drying off my face, then tossed it into the garbage. After one last look in the mirror, I grabbed my IV buddy and opened the bathroom door and allowed my mom to guide me back to bed. I was tired. Maybe I just needed to sleep. And when I woke back up, maybe all of this would just be a strange nightmare. A figment of my overly active imagination.

  Or worse...maybe it wasn't.

  Chapter 6

  After another day in the hospital, I was freed with a medical record of surprisingly good health. Once I woke up, the doctors were hard pressed to find anything wrong with me so they had to let me go home. I never told them about my eyes turning black. It didn't happen again, so I just chalked it up to delirium.

  My mom on the other hand was having a difficult time believing that there was nothing wrong with me.

  She hovered over me for another two days, dogging me at every step with inquiries into how I was feeling. After every trip to the bathroom she asked me questions, wanting every single disgusting detail. I guess a person's poop holds the answers to everything. Who knew?

  It was now three days gone and I felt fantastic. Better than I'd ever felt, as if I could take on the world and win. It was weird, after dying and stuff, but I wasn't going to question it. I felt too good to ruin it by overanalyzing the situation. I was going to go with the flow. Ride the wave and see where it rolled me.

  I laid on my bed watching as Chloe finished the last riff on Paint It Black with the Guitar Hero game guitar. After her dramatic final arm swing, she turned and gave me the rock sign, her tongue sticking out between fingers. "I freaking rock dude!"

  I laughed.

  "You're a complete nerd." The voice came from the corner of my room where our other friend, Jamie, was engrossed in something on my computer. He was probably downloading porn again. His penchant for it bordered on obsessive. Thankfully my mom trusted me and never checked the surfing history stored on the computer. I would have some explaining to do if she ever did.

  Chloe flipped him the middle finger. "You're just jealous because you haven't gotten this far on the game."

  "Yeah, the only game you're good at is playing the pipe." I made rude gestures toward my crotch.

  Chloe flopped over laughing.

  "You're right." Jamie turned in the chair, something pale and pink sticking out of his pants. Both Chloe and I shrieked and covered our eyes. I started to laugh when I realized it was just his hand poking out from his open fly.

  I tossed a balled-up pair of dirty socks at him. "You're sick."

  He caught it with his phallic-posing hand. "I know. That's why I get all the hot girls."

  "You do not," Chloe said. "Your last girlfriend was a greasy pig."

  Jamie zipped up his pants. "Marissa was not a greasy pig."

  Chloe and I looked at each other, then said in unison. "Yes, she was."

  "Okay, maybe she was a little. But she had the softest set of—,"

  I put my hand up to ward off his next words. "Please. I don't want that image in my head."

  He smiled. "I was going to say lips. You have a dirty mind Salem Vale." He waggled his eyebrows at me. "I like it, you saucy minx you."

  Before I could comment, the phone rang. The cordless was laying on the pillow beside me. I picked it up and pressed the talk button. It was probably my mom checking up on me. Today was the first day she seemed okay about leaving me alone to go back to work, well as alone I could get with two boisterous best friends crammed in my room and a younger brother somewhere in the house playing something on his laptop.

  "Hello."

  There was no answer.

  "Hello?"

  A line of static sizzled in my ear. It was so loud I had to pull the receiver away. I pressed the end button.

  "Who was it?" Chloe asked, her attention back on the guitar hero game.

  "Nobody. Bad line." I glanced down at the phone in my hand. I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat. A sense of threatening dread crept up on me like a shadow crossing the ground. It sent shivers down my back.

  I set the phone down on the pillow, and tried to focus my mind on something else. I watched as Chloe scored some major points on the game and smiled. This was one computer game we were both good at and Jamie wasn't. He usually kicked our asses on all the other games though. He rocked at Halo.

  She glanced back at me. "Do you want a turn, now?"

  I nodded and bounced off the bed to take the guitar from her. Before I could grab it, the front doorbell chimed. I frowned wondering who it could be. Maybe it was the postman. My mom did a lot of her shopping online. She hated going to the mall for anything. The bell chimed again impatiently.

  I opened my bedroom door and called, "Kyle! Get the door!"

  There was no return bellow and the doorbell dinged again. It was becoming annoying but I knew if it was one of my mom's packages and she found out I didn't answer the door for it, she'd bust my ass big time.

  "Be back in a second," I said to Chloe and Jamie then bounded out of the room to march down the hallway to the front door. It sounded once more before I grabbed the handle and turned it.

  Pissed off, I swung the door open to give whoever it was a piece of my mind, but there wasn't anyone standing on the stoop. I stepped out and glanced both ways, looking for the offending door ringer so I could yell at them before they ran away. I was alone, standing out on the cement step, the bright sunshine beaming down on me and the birds chirping musically nearby.

  It was an idyllic summer day, with clear blue skies and perfect outdoor weather, but I couldn't stop from shaking. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rose, gooseflesh popped out all over my skin. Fear clamped a wide steel hand around me and I couldn't shuck it off.

  Hugging myself tight I scanned the area looking for the source of my irrational fear. A woman walked by pushing a stroller, her baby babbling happily inside. Vehicles drove by, none of them slowing or stopping near the house. Nothing appeared to be threatening but it was there regardless.

  Someone wa
s watching me. I was sure of it. My skin crawled from the phantom gaze. I glanced around again. And this time my vision changed. Everything I looked at shifted in shape, exactly what I experienced in the bathroom in the hospital. Everything was doubled, or giving off some sort of aura mirroring the object itself.

  The azalea bush, the decorative rock in the middle of the lawn, even the lawn chair sitting out front took on a new dimension. It was pretty cool to see the objects like that, but I still had a sense of paranoia. It still felt like I was being observed from somewhere near by.

  Then a human shape wavered into my view. It was coming up the sidewalk near the house. I watched and waited, anticipating, as the shape moved across the freshly cut grass. I could see the person, and then a colored halo around their shape. Blues, greens and sunny yellow swirled around together, swaying back and forth, rocking to the motion of the person's movement.

  "Hey Sale, what are you doing standing there?"

  It was my brother Kyle moving towards me, dressed in shorts and a tank top, his usual attire.

  Realizing that my eyes must be doing the freaky ink thing for me to see in that way, I lowered my gaze and pretended to study my feet. I didn't want Kyle to see them. He would freak out.

  "Someone rang the doorbell. I just came out to see who it was."

  As he approached the stoop, he glanced one way then the other obviously trying to figure out if I had lost my mind or something. "Okay? So who was it?"

  I shook my head, still keeping my head downcast. "Ah, no one I guess."

  He came up on the stoop but paused at my side before going into the house. "Are you alright?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine." I rubbed at my eyes. I couldn't go back into the house with them the way they were. Someone would call my mom and I'd be back in the hospital and probably end up undergoing a bunch of painful tests. "Where were you anyways? I thought you were in your room."

  "I was over at Brian's playing a little b-ball." After looking at me funny, he went into the house. "Are you coming back in?"

  "Yeah, in a minute. Just leave the door open."

  "Okay," he said, a quirk in his voice, then the last bit he mumbled under his breath, "weirdo." But I heard him anyway.

  His little comment didn't surprise me--Kyle and I were complete opposites. He was tall and fair haired, as I was short and well, I colored my hair monthly, so I guess that didn't count. He loved sports and was on the school basketball team. I managed to play a mean game of air hockey once in awhile down at the pool hall. Academically, we were about the same. Both of us raked in B's, with a few C+'s mixed in the bunch. However I did manage to score an A last term in art. Thankfully my teacher had a great sense of humor and thought my sculpture of a sperm cell constructed entirely out of tampons was inspired.

  Music and movies also differed. While I leaned toward the hardcore, including loving horror movies, Kyle was really all about the Pop. Although I did think Superbad was a freaking hilarious film. I mean who couldn't love McLovin? And Michael Cera I thought was cute as hell.

  After a few more minutes I gave up trying to find out who was watching me, if anyone. I rubbed at my eyes until they stung, but finally my vision returned to normal. I glanced around the yard one last time before heading in.

  Out of my peripheral I thought I saw movement in the shadows along side the house, but instead of stopping and checking it out, I shook the feeling off and went back to my room. I had enough of being freaked out for the day. I figured I was over quota.

  I pushed open my bedroom door with the intention of lying back down on my bed and picking up the phone to order pizza. It was past six and my stomach was starting to grumble. But when I entered, a high pitched shrill, like the emergency broadcast system signal, invaded my ears. I clutched at my head trying to drown the offensive sound out.

  "What the hell is that?" I yelled over the clamor.

  Both Chloe and Jamie regarded me strangely. "What are you talking about?" Chloe asked.

  "That noise. What the hell is it?"

  "It's Malice, dummy. It was on your iPod," Jamie said.

  Chloe frowned. "I told him I wasn't sure if you'd want to listen to it, considering."

  "This isn't Malice. It can't be." I took my hands off my ears and moved toward the iPod dock speakers. All I could hear was the ear piercing whine of static coming through the tiny holes.

  Then when I strained, really strained, I could hear whispered words.

  You are mine...

  You belong to me...

  You want me beyond all reason...

  You will never love someone as much as you love me...

  And then like a slap in the face, the sting radiated down my body.

  Salem, I know you're listening...

  I stumbled backwards. Feet tangled, I tripped over the pile of shoes and magazines on the floor and ended up on my ass.

  Chloe put out her hand to help me up. "What's the matter with you?"

  I stared at her, the whispered words still caressing my ears like a lover's fingers. "Shut it off."

  She hesitated, a look of concern pinching her already thin face.

  "Shut it off!" I screamed.

  Startled by my outburst, Jamie fumbled with the dock but finally managed to pull the iPod out of it, instantly stopping the music. He set the device down on my dresser. "Holy shit, Salem. What's your problem?"

  "Leave her alone." Chloe pulled me to my feet and put an arm around my shoulders. "She's had a rough few days."

  Still shaking, I allowed Chloe to guide me to the bed and sit me down. She sat beside me, her hand rubbing my shoulder. I appreciated her effort to calm me even if it was completely pointless. Jamie just stood on the other side of the room staring at us, unsure of what to say. I couldn't blame him.

  Neither of us had told him about the incident after the Malice gig. All he knew was that I got into it with another girl and ripped out her nose ring. I didn't want to tell him about the rest. I still wasn't absolutely sure I'd been raped or assaulted. I'd definitely been drugged, that much I was positive about, but the rest was still foggy.

  There'd been a few times while I was still in the hospital where I wanted to ask the doctor if he'd examined all of me and found anything odd. Or if he'd done a toxicology test on my blood and found RBH floating around in my system. But I'd been too embarrassed to ask. It wasn't really a good topic for small talk. I'd also been so eager to get out of the hospital; I didn't want to give them any more reasons to keep me there.

  After a few seconds of silence, Jamie cleared his throat. "I'm going." He headed for the door. "My dad went back to school shopping and who the hell knows what he came back with. I swear to God the dude thinks I'm still twelve."

  I didn't respond. My ears still tingled from the static in the music. I swiped at them, digging my fingers inside. They itched as if a thousand baby spiders were crawling around.

  "Later," Chloe said.

  "I'll see you guys at school." He left shutting the bedroom door behind him.

  "Do you want me to call your mom?" she asked.

  I shook my head. I didn't want to have to explain anything to my mom. Because, well, I couldn't explain it. I had no freaking idea what was happening to me. Maybe I was going insane. Maybe I'd contracted a serious STD and it was affecting my brain. Syphilis. That was it. My brain was slowly being eaten away by it. At least, I thought that was how the disease worked. I didn't really pay attention in health class.

  A violent shiver racked my body. "Just sit with me for awhile, okay?"

  Without a word, she settled her head against mine and squeezed my shoulder, and I knew she'd stay with me as long as I needed her to. To the end of days or until I fell asleep, whichever happened to come first.

  Chapter 7

  Coming out of a strange and eerie dream that I couldn't quite remember, I rolled over onto my side to try and get comfortable. Once Chloe left at around nine, I fell asleep and I'd been in and out of consciousness ever since. I think my mom checked up on
me when she got home from work, but I couldn't be sure.

  Unable to get truly comfortable I'd been tossing off the covers and rolling up into them alternatively. I didn't know whether I was hot or cold.

  Now, I was definitely cold. Not wanting to open my eyes, I reached blindly for the covers. If I dared open them then I might consider staying awake. Being awake meant thinking, and I really didn't want to do much of that any time soon. Yet, I couldn't find the damn covers.

  Slitting my eyes to half-mast, I raised my head to search for the covers. But they were long gone.

  About eight feet below me.

  Gasping for breath, I tried to dig my fingers into the ceiling stucco. Anything to anchor me. My heart pounded in my chest and I was dizzy and light-headed. I wasn't one for heights. Vertigo settled in, and it looked like the room was spinning in a circle below me.

  "OhmyGod. OhmyGod. OhmyGod," I chanted over and over again hoping that somehow it would save me from the harsh reality that I was stuck on the ceiling and not tucked safely into my bed on the ground.

  Although technically, I wasn't stuck. I could move.

  Carefully turning onto my stomach, I reached for the light fixture. My fingertips just brushed it. Taking a deep breath, I sort of bounced/shimmied across the ceiling to get closer to the light.

  Thankfully, I didn't sleep naked. I could just imagine how it would look if someone walked into my room and saw a naked girl stuck to the roof. I'm sure it wouldn't be all that pretty of a sight. Well, maybe for a guy it would. Being seen in my tank tap and boy's glow in the dark Sponge Bob boxer shorts was bad enough. Plus I imagined rubbing against the hard stucco on the ceiling wouldn't feel all that pleasant on my body.

  I grasped the light fixture in both hands and wondered how the hell I was going to get down. I had no idea how I got up here, or why, but really all that mattered was putting my two feet back onto solid ground. Everything else had to wait until that glorious thing happened.