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Monday night of the last week of classes, Rachel couldn't sleep.
Thinking about Danny made it easier to sooth herself when her mind was racing. Rachel touched herself and pretended her hands were Danny's; she stroked hair back from her forehead, she ran her hands down her arms, traced the scars on her stomach; locked her fingers into each other and held her own hands. The pressure between each of her fingers, and the warmth of one palm against the other, was enough to hold her steady.
Tonight she wanted to get out of bed and creep around the house, but she was afraid of that now. It was late, and quiet, and she felt almost totally certain that if she left the safety of her room she would stumble into another nightmare. All shredded wings and body horror like two nights ago.
This is what she knew: that her brain was not dealing well with the things Zoe had told her earlier in May. For a little while it had made sense - psychics and devils and ghosts existed and maybe she was a witch. As it was, that made sense.
For a while.
But if you added in the ordinary stresses; getting on with her family on a daily basis, wondering what her father was up to and if it meant things were going to go bad again, worrying about Danny's uncle coming back, Joshua and the E-laid whispers, her dance recital at the end of the week and exams so soon after that and then the rest of her life beyond that...
She squeezed her hands together and told herself Danny does not think you are crazy.
But Danny does not know what goes on inside your head.
Despite the fact that Zoe had told her winged devils existed, Rachel would not believe that her nightmare of her step-sister with wing-things had really happened. Indigo was not a monster. The nightmare was simply her brain starting to fizzle out under pressure.
If she told Zoe she thought Indigo was a monster, and it turned out Indigo was a normal fifteen year old person, then it would just be more proof that Rachel was nuts. Paranoid. Seeing things. Worse: seeing things and believing them.
Her hands unlaced themselves and she pressed them into her stomach. Not too hard, and not using her nails, just applying pressure. It felt like there was a great pressure building there anyway. Family and exams and the gaping void of after-exams and how none of it would ever be over unless she did something to make it stop.
She knew these thoughts were dangerous. At least she recognised that. She forced her hands away from her stomach and gripped her pillow instead. She should cut her nails, but the clippers were in the bathroom down the hall past Indigo's room, and she was scared of walking past it. She considered chewing her nails short, but she didn't want to start that habit again. She'd chewed her fingers into a bit of a mess, before. Not for a couple of years now but... it would be too tempting once she started.
Instead she pressed her fingers against her lips, soft but firm, and pretended that Danny was kissing her goodnight. That that he was falling for her, and that he was here right now to look after her.
Thinking about Danny made it easier to sooth herself when her mind was racing. Rachel touched herself and pretended her hands were Danny's; she stroked hair back from her forehead, she ran her hands down her arms, traced the scars on her stomach; locked her fingers into each other and held her own hands. The pressure between each of her fingers, and the warmth of one palm against the other, was enough to hold her steady.
Tonight she wanted to get out of bed and creep around the house, but she was afraid of that now. It was late, and quiet, and she felt almost totally certain that if she left the safety of her room she would stumble into another nightmare. All shredded wings and body horror like two nights ago.
This is what she knew: that her brain was not dealing well with the things Zoe had told her earlier in May. For a little while it had made sense - psychics and devils and ghosts existed and maybe she was a witch. As it was, that made sense.
For a while.
But if you added in the ordinary stresses; getting on with her family on a daily basis, wondering what her father was up to and if it meant things were going to go bad again, worrying about Danny's uncle coming back, Joshua and the E-laid whispers, her dance recital at the end of the week and exams so soon after that and then the rest of her life beyond that...
She squeezed her hands together and told herself Danny does not think you are crazy.
But Danny does not know what goes on inside your head.
Despite the fact that Zoe had told her winged devils existed, Rachel would not believe that her nightmare of her step-sister with wing-things had really happened. Indigo was not a monster. The nightmare was simply her brain starting to fizzle out under pressure.
If she told Zoe she thought Indigo was a monster, and it turned out Indigo was a normal fifteen year old person, then it would just be more proof that Rachel was nuts. Paranoid. Seeing things. Worse: seeing things and believing them.
Her hands unlaced themselves and she pressed them into her stomach. Not too hard, and not using her nails, just applying pressure. It felt like there was a great pressure building there anyway. Family and exams and the gaping void of after-exams and how none of it would ever be over unless she did something to make it stop.
She knew these thoughts were dangerous. At least she recognised that. She forced her hands away from her stomach and gripped her pillow instead. She should cut her nails, but the clippers were in the bathroom down the hall past Indigo's room, and she was scared of walking past it. She considered chewing her nails short, but she didn't want to start that habit again. She'd chewed her fingers into a bit of a mess, before. Not for a couple of years now but... it would be too tempting once she started.
Instead she pressed her fingers against her lips, soft but firm, and pretended that Danny was kissing her goodnight. That that he was falling for her, and that he was here right now to look after her.
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