The Discovery by P.J. Bailey

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I slithered out of bed, landing on all fours. I didn’t have enough strength to stand. I crawled down the hallway to the bathroom and let out what felt like a week’s worth of meals in the toilet. The coolness of the tile on my legs was too nice to leave. I planted my face down. It felt so good I needed all my skin on it. I slowly stripped off my clothes. Each sweep of my fingers hitting my skin made me want to scream out. The amulet was the last to go. I somehow managed to put it in the pocket of my jeans, thinking I needed to hide it away. I had hoped that when I took it off, the pain would stop, but it didn’t. I fanned out on the tile, letting my skin cool, which helped me to relax.

My eyes opened, but my brain was foggy. I was aware enough to know that I was in between dreaming and awake. The lights were so bright, and every object was blazing with a halo, forcing me to believe I was dreaming. A dark figure materialized at the door, speaking in a language I didn’t understand. Malcolm’s voice bounced around in the back of my head, but it couldn’t be Malcolm. This man was speaking another language, and Malcolm was at his childhood home four hours away. He must’ve been a figment of my dream.

He hauled me to his body. Without a doubt, I knew I was dreaming because Malcolm wasn’t Malcolm anymore. His skin was glowing an amber color. It was so smooth and radiant. I peered into his eyes but had to turn away because the blue light that emanated from them was penetrating brightly into the heavens.

“Are you a god?”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he sat me on an even colder floor. Splashes of cold mist bounced off my skin, the droplets rhythmic and soothing. My teeth began to chatter with a chill. The water stopped, and a towel covered me. I folded into the skin of the man. A familiar scent caught my nose.

“You smell like Malcolm. He smells like the ocean. I want to know if he tastes as good as he smells,” I confessed to the stranger.

“Jesus,” the stranger spoke with a gritty voice.

He positioned me back in bed and bound his body to mine. I was still wet from the water, but that didn’t bother me because as the god settled in closer, I was thrust deeper into my dream.”

There wasn’t much sun shining in through my small window, but what did seep in was blinding. I vaguely recalled what happened last night. I was running away from the person that was following me and then fell to the floor from the extreme pain. I also remembered crawling to the bathroom and having a dream about a godlike Malcolm coming to my rescue. The fire had left me when I made it back to my bed, but my muscles still were weak and atrophied. I kicked the large comforter off and splayed out in the middle of the bed, still in my underwear. A creak from the floor cautioned me that someone was in my room.