The Last Priestess

Chapter 3: Tattoo

Psyche's POV

"Do you really think I like you as a friend?" Canary shouted angrily as she stabbed me in my back.

It wasn't the physical pain that made my chest throb but the words that came out of her lips. Blood gushed out from my mouth the next second, but she did not budge one bit. "Ca..na, why?"

She glowers at me, pressing the knife deeper into my flesh. "You're a worthless piece of s**t. Die."

My body weakens and my heart hurts. This isn't her. She must be possessed. Words became so hard to utter, air no longer pumping in my chest, and my strength faded. As the curtain of my eyes closed, a familiar man came, but it was too late as I could no longer fight consciousness.

"Psyche!"

A loud shout accompanied by a cold liquid that was hastily wired to my body startled me awake, gasping for air and stunned.

"Are you all right?"

My eyes immediately shifted to Miriam, who was standing by my side with a bowl in her hand, probably the reason why my body is soaking wet now. But at this point, becoming upset with her was the least of my concerns.

"You're crying in your sleep; what did you dream?" she inquired, sounding so concerned as she sat next to me.

I tried to reach my back, feeling to touch any wounds, but there were none. A sigh of relief escapes from my mouth. It was just a dream. A weird one.

"It was nothing," I hesitated, suddenly aware of the situation. "Why did you splash water on me?"

Miriam just gave a shrug. "No matter how hard I try to wake you up, you're not responding, so you left me with no choice."

She then got to her feet, a weary expression on her face. "You are late for school again. It takes you so long to get up, that's why you're having nightmares. Go take a bath, you're like a drenched chick now."

I didn't move until she left my room, felt frozen on my bed, while my mind was stuck inside the dream. The stab. The conversation. It feels so real.

I was stuck in my own maze of thought and wonders when, all of a sudden, pain sharply etched behind my right ear making me shiver, as though it was being punctured by needles. What on earth is going on with me?

My feet hurriedly ran straight to the bathroom and took a cold shower in the hope of feeling better. The discomfort lasted for about a minute before it subsided. Everything was already bitchin' and inauspicious even before the day started.

After going through my daily ritual, I picked up my bag and walked downstairs to eat. And as usual, food is already served on the table.

"Miriam."

She was at the other end of the board, with pen and paper in both hands, probably computing our monthly expenses. She only took a short glimpse at me, eyes fixed on the materials in front. "Why?"

"We have an upcoming grand ball next week. Canary wants me to attend the ball."

"We're a little short on cash right now," she confessed, letting out a deep sigh. "Is that important, Psy?"

I shook my head and gave her an assuring smile. "Uh, not really. I basically asked you, since Canary was being so inquisitive. She won't stop asking me questions unless she gets some answer."

Miriam nodded, "I'm sorry, Psy. If I only had extra money, I'd allow you, but our power bill has gone up, so we're a little short of money."

She gave me those guilty eyes, her usual reaction whenever there is something I ask that she can't provide. Logically speaking, Miriam was not obliged to feel guilt or bear the responsibility of being the older sister. Considering that she is also my parents' daughter.

We had to be each other's support system. But I let her down by living my life how I wanted it to be and not giving any thought to the hardship she was going through. It was selfish of me to do that.

"It's okay, Miriam. It wasn't really my plan to attend the ball. You know how I hate crowded settings, right?" I asked, placing the plates on the sink.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I didn't stay home long and went out after breakfast. It was a kiss of a miracle because the class hadn't started yet when I arrived. The room was silent like a grave and all my classmates were quiet, their eyes focused on the volume in their desks. As if the final exam is coming.

I look at Cana, wondering, "What's going on?"

Typically, they would be chatting, playing, and generally teasing each other. Have they learnt from yesterday's mistake? Are they all now diligent students? Indeed, today is a little strange.

She shrugged, "I don't know either. When I came, they were all like that already."

My brain is suddenly filled with flashes of recollections, with both eyes settled on Canary's face, lingering there for a moment as I thought back to that bizarre dream.

"Do you think dreams and reality are interconnected, Cana?"

She closes her book and faces me. "Possibly, yes. Dreams are like warnings, they contain meaning; either what you dream will be the reverse of it or the actual dream itself. It's like a vision," she explained.

"I see."

Hearing her comments bothered me more. Is there a chance that she may eventually turn her back on me? My tongue is itching to ask her whether there has ever been a time when she hated me. However, a part of me is fearful, pulling me out of my inquisitive pace.

"Why did you ask anyway? Don't tell me dreams are your new interest?" she queried.

I failed to answer her question because Prof Armstrong had arrived. He merely discussed our lesson and reminded us of our test tomorrow.

"It's a 50-item test. I will expect everyone to ace it," he said before leaving the room.

There was no exam in our morning session. And only Prof. Davidson handed us an essay activity regarding literature in the afternoon. The day went off without a hitch. Or so I thought.

It was still 3:59 p.m., we had 31 minutes left before the gate opened. Everyone considered going to the library, which had become a routine for us. Only I, Canary, and Josh remained in the room after the rest had left. I was about to go out the door when Josh tapped my shoulder, his gaze fixed on my mastoid as if there was dirt there.

"What?"

"Nice tattoo, Psy," he chuckles. "New design? Triangle with no legs? Or is that greater than in downward motion?" he added.

My brow furrowed instantly. "What are you talking about?"

Canary also peered underneath my ear, noting, "you mentioned before that you don't want a tattoo because it's impure on the skin. Why did you get one then?"

Both of them look at me strangely. It's true that tattoos aren't my kind of art and I'm not a big fan of them. So, why would I get one? That's just ridiculous.

I glanced at them, puzzled, not understanding what they were saying.

"I didn't get a tattoo; what are you two talking about?"

Josh and Cana exchanged glances. "There's no need to deny it, Psy, besides, we won't judge you either."

My hand promptly grabbed my mirror to verify their assertion. And, as they claimed, there are indeed two lines, like a greater than sign in a downward motion, the color of which is neon red. I tried to wipe it out just in case it was simply a pen mark, but it wouldn't come off.

"What the heck is this?"

I put more pressure on the wipe, ignoring the sharp pain of my every brush. But it didn't work; it merely inflamed my skin.

Canary immediately stopped me, "What are you doing, Psy? Your skin is almost bleeding. That's a tattoo, it won't come off."

It doesn't make sense how something got inked to my mastoid. I've never been to a tattoo artist. It is beyond impossible to have one without my knowledge or consent. This is driving me mad.

"Did you really not do it?"

"Do I look like I'm lying, Cana?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

Irritation began to fill me up when questions remained unanswered. I excused myself from her and ran straight to the bathroom. The restroom was merely a step away from me when I met someone.

My body froze as our gazes locked. Cold sweat drips down my forehead, my palms tremble, and the nervousness in my chest becomes stronger with each step he takes closer. It felt as if the pounding of my heart had deafened me. My mind is screaming at me, telling me to run away, but my heart says otherwise.

"Psyche Stellar," he said matter-of-factly.

"Who are you?" my voice came out almost a whisper.

His emerald eyes lead me through a web of illusion. He wasn't wearing a mask, so his celestial masculinity was obvious, looking like an angel who had fallen from heaven. He takes another step, leaving our space inches away from each other.

"I am Scion Prezi."

"You must be really bewildered about everything; if you want all your questions addressed, come with me," he added.

I just stood there staring at his outstretched arms, unsure what to do. Canary's loud call caused me to flinch, and I impulsively grasped Scion's hand. Before understanding what had happened, a large doorway appeared in front of us. It was a portal.

I blinked a few times, absorbing the situation, then attempted to withdraw my hand after a certain realization, but Scion was strong.

"Caannaaaaryyyyy!"

It was too late as he had already pulled me inside the portal.