I Wish

Chapter 3

The bath hurt. I was vaguely aware of being pulled into the master bathroom, and my mum fussing over me, but mostly it was a humid fog that I shook through. Did I have fingers? I couldn’t feel them, but I sure must still have fingers.

“It’ll be okay sweetheart, we just need to cool you right down,” she said, helping me step in. It felt like fire, I tried to push myself out, but my mother manhandled me into the tub and I thrashed. “Shh, shh, I know,” she told me and I could feel her fingers wrapped tight around my shoulder, “But your temperature’s up too high, and it needs to come down.”

‘Little one.' That… that voice. Why was I still hearing her? I was awake, yeah. So why? I shivered, and shivered and shivered, and couldn’t seem to stop for the entire fifteen minutes that I took to have whatever they’d given me to kick in. I could hear the sound of my breathing, could feel it too, and I didn’t understand how I could feel this bad without any signs beforehand. Or really any other symptoms besides this fever and all the other little bits and bobs that come along with it.

“Can I get out now,” I murmured, trying to keep my eyes open, “I want to go back to bed, it's cold.”

“I need you to eat something first,” mum said, moving to help me out. I winced, if I’d thought it was bad in the cold bath, feeling my skin attempting to crawl back into my body was really uncomfortable.

“Dad said I could sleep after the bath,” I said, slurring my words together and fighting for some kind of coherence. Next came that walking thing, and with the way my legs threatened to shatter into a billion pieces out from under me, I was going to need all the help I could get.

“Yeah. He might have. I didn’t. I don’t know how long you’re going to sleep, but I do know that you’re going to need to eat something. You haven’t eaten since dinner last night,” she informed me.

“No, no dinner. Sleep, sleep is good,” I told her firmly, she let out a shaky laugh and walked me out of there in fresh clothes. On the way, I saw dad with a big arm full of my bedding. Oh, he’d changed my sheets. That’s so nice. Downstairs, mum made me eat half a Vegemite on toast and drink some icky orange hydrolite crap. It tastes like melted jelly. Ew. With that, I was herded back to bed and the only thing I could recall was the bronze colour of my sheets…. Huh? I didn’t own any bronze sheets.

****

“These aren’t mine,” I murmured, stretching, and they weren’t. The entire bed wasn’t mine. Had I moved? No, somehow I didn’t think that I had, but I wasn’t sure where I was either.

“They could be. Come to me. You’ll have any comfort you could want,” the woman’s voice called. I wondered if it always sounded like bells chiming when she spoke. That wasn’t quite the right way to describe it.

“If nature had a bell,” I finished the thought out loud.

“What would it do?” she asked with a laugh.

“It’d sound like you,” I told her, an unusual solemnness coating my words. She didn’t speak for a moment, and I began to wonder. Where was she? If I was speaking to her, she must be here, right? Actually, I thought, exhaling and feeling my ribs expand effortlessly, I don’t care. No shivering, or sweating or aching. This was lovely. I barely registered the dragging contentment, I was so comfortable.

“Maybe you should come and tell me that,” she offered lightly.

“But I just did,” I said in a small voice. Confusion blooming in my chest. I didn’t like it. I wanted the safe, bubbly feeling back.

“In the real world, silly. You know where to find me,” she said reassuringly, and I slipped back into comfort again, “Will you come?”

“Come where?” I asked her, shifting and feeling my back click. These sheets were so soft.

“To the forest. I can only come so far, it’s up to you to do the rest, okay?” she instructed, and I wanted to know I would remember this, but things were getting so fuzzy around the edges that I thought I was going to fall asleep. Wasn’t I already asleep, though?

“Okay,” I said after a moment, and it was at that point that I realised that the contentment-inducing feeling? Her hand wandered through my hair. At my affirmation, it tightened, and I felt my back pulled against somebody’s chest. The other hand came to wind around my stomach, as her face buried in the hair at the back of my neck. Laughter spilled out of her mouth, and it made you want to join in.

“What’s your name, Little One?” she asked through her giggles. I froze and for a second all I could think of was Grammy. It was an odd image to have now, it didn’t make sense. But I could see her mouth moving in some long faded memory, I just couldn’t hear the words.

Bang. Good feeling is gone. I closed my mouth so hard, I bit my tongue.

****

My chest hurts. My throat burned, as I coughed and coughed. Something about my whole rib cage just seemed really ineffective, it rattled with the force I was using and threatened to up and quit altogether. All I could taste was metal, and I was choking on it. Breathing in hurt, but breathing out was worse. Red sprays of liquid were coming out of my mouth and nose. It burned.

“Help. Help! Mum! Dad! I think Sienna’s dying,” Mark yelled in a high-pitched panic, and it sounded like he was underwater. The pounding on the floorboards was louder. Knew that little monster loved me, I thought, somewhat deliriously.

“Move,” Dad said loudly, pushing past my brother, “Move.” The word echoed sharply around the room, and the next thing I knew I was being levered to the side, and he was hitting my back. None of this felt good, or was in any way dignifying, but I could breathe a little easier and after a few minutes everything seemed to ease slowly back towards normal.

“That was horrible,” I croaked, as if what had just happened was in any way ordinary.

“Only you could bite your tongue off and almost choke to death in your sleep,” Dad said, shaking with both his arms around me. Mum stood at the door. I could see that much now that my eyes had stopped watering. Mark looked terrified, hovering near my bedside table like he was going to bolt at any second. I opened one arm and he darted into it.

“Don’t do that again,” he requested quietly into my shoulder before pulling back and darting away, “I’m going to go find Jeremy. What’s he doing that he didn’t hear all that?” Not waiting for an answer, he bounded off out of the room. Mum came in and slowly sat down on the bed.

“Are you okay honey?” she asked, pulling me into a hug. If it was a shade tighter than normal, nobody mentioned it.

“Huh, you know… I think I was about to ask you that,” I replied honestly before my brain could catch up with me. Then they proceeded to quit work all together. I was scrambling before they even started to ask questions.

“What do you mean?” Dad prodded, after they looked at each other in surprise. Luckily, I was saved from having to answer by the sound of my stomach growling so loudly I actually felt myself blush.

“Can I eat?” I asked curiously, and I felt stupid. I’d bitten my tongue and my mouth was full of blood. I probably shouldn’t. Infections and all that.

“Wash your mouth out first and let’s have a look,” Mum said, studying me for a minute, “But let’s see how well you can walk now. You’ve had a fever for a day and a half.” My feet tingled as I put them on the floor, but it was only with a few shaky steps that they accepted I could walk under my own power. When I finally dragged myself to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, it made me wince. I was covered in tiny splatters of blood. The skin tone that people liked to refer to cinnamon, if that made more sense to you than it does to me, was grey. There were bags under my eyes, and my hair was a tangled mess. Ew. I’m gross. Forget washing my mouth out, shower. Food can wait. I feel disgusting.