Page 8 of Unnatural
Which meant the other ones caused harm. But she already knew that. It was part of the trade-off she’d so recently considered.
Salma handed her that cup and turned away, walking to the sink and washing her handsagain. Autumn’s heart gave ajolt. The sleep meds had been one thing. She’d inquired about cutting down on those but…was her nurse giving her instructions on how to wean herself completely off her medication?Why?Why would she do that? The medication was keeping her tumor-free. The medication was keeping her alive.
But it was also keeping her half-dead.
And Salma loved her. Autumn knew she did.
Do it. Live. No matter how long.
You have that ability where others don’t.
Mara flashed in her mind, her friend’s scarred and tumor-riddled body.What would she give to feel healthy, even for one day?A wild thrill moved through Autumn, and it practically made her gasp.Thatwas within her reach. She could have that if she wanted it.
Autumn removed the Mesmivir from the cup, stuffing that under her hip where half the sleep meds had gone and downing theuseless, harmlesspills that remained, swallowing them with water.
Salma turned back again, taking the cup, and Autumn saw that her hands were shaking. “Good girl,” she repeated, and this time, she sounded slightly breathless.
She’s scared. For herself or for me? Or maybe both.Autumn was scared too. Scared but…strangely elated.
Salma leaned forward and took Autumn’s face in her hands, kissing her forehead. When she leaned back, there were tears shining in her eyes. “My special, beautiful girl,” she said. “Grow strong.” And with that, she picked up the tray, turned, and hurried out of the room.
Chapter Four
Autumn’s morning nurse was a thin-lipped shrew, ironically named Joy, who had only been at Mercy for a few months.Thankfully, she was rarely on Autumn’s floor, and her type of unpleasant personality was the exception rather than the rule when it came to the staff. Autumn took the offered paper cup of morning meds and feigned a minor coughing fit as she palmed the same ones she’d slipped under her hip the night before. Thankfully, joyless Joy looked away as she fake hacked and didn’t notice the—unpracticed—sleight of hand.
Autumn showered, tossing the pills down the drain, and then once dry, she dressed distractedly, her heart beating more swiftly than usual. She was scared, anxious.What if you’re wrong and the price you pay for this comes quickly?She had a scan in about a month.What if they find a tumor or three or six? Will it be worth it?The way her blood raced and her breath came short—not because she felt ill but because she felt a shiver oflifemove through her sickly body—offered up the answer:yes.
Yes, yes, yes.
The mere idea of feeling unmedicated and experiencingphysical normalcy was suddenly a draw too strong to deny. She’d only considered going off her pharmaceuticals because Salma had all but instructed her how to do so, but now that the promise of strength—no matter how momentary—was shimmering before her, Autumn could not let go. She gazed at her sallow, sunken face in the mirror, feeling slightly surreal. She was certain of her choice, yet it’d happened so quickly, with nothing more than an off-the-cuff question and the unexpected instructions from her favorite nurse.
Maybe that’s the only way it could have happened. If you’d considered it too much, you’d have chickened out.
She was glad she hadn’t chickened out. She turned away from the mirror.
She’d only skipped two doses, but already she felt better, stronger. The nausea had gone completely, and she ate all her breakfast for the first time in months.
Over the next several days, her stomach pains diminished and then disappeared. When she looked in the mirror one night before bed, there was color in her cheeks, and her lips had taken on a subtle rosy hue where before they’d been practically bloodless.
Her muscles ceased aching, and one day as she headed to dinner, she came to a stop right outside the cafeteria, realizing suddenly that the ceaseless ringing in her ears had stopped. She blinked, bringing her fingertips to her ears in wonder and almost laughing out loud. The tinnitus—yet another side effect of the medication—had been ongoing and aggravating, but she’d learned to live with it as if it was just part of existing. As she stood there, the realization that it in fact was not almost brought tears to her eyes. Her head felt clear, the fogginess that had been a constant companion had lifted, and she felt bright and alert.Alive.
Autumn palmed the pills for the next week and then the next, her strength doubling by the day.
Yes, but there will be a price.
She pushed the thought aside. She was willing to pay it, she knew that much. She just didn’t want to consider it too closely and risk her fear taking over. So far, she hadn’t dreamed of her monster. But again, those running dreams—or, more specifically,hidingdreams—had come during the full moon. The more she’d thought about it, the more certain she was. There was a possibility she’d never dream of him again, the possibility thatallthe medication she’d been taking, not just the sleep aids, and that inexplicable pull of the moon Salma had spoken of had worked in perfect combination somehow to bring on that particular vivid dream. So on the night of the full moon, she’d take a dose of the sleep medication. A singular dose would wear off the next morning. But she wouldn’t take the others. She refused to feel hopelessly ill again when she’d just begun to reallylive.Even he wasn’t worth giving that up for. She pulled her shoulders back.Will it work?There was only one way to know. There was still a little less than two weeks until the next full moon.
A week to getstrong.
She wanted Salma to see her. She wouldn’t tell her what she’d been doing, but she would certainly know. She wanted to share her happiness, brief though it might be, with someone. But Salma hadn’t been to her room since Autumn had started palming the pills. Was she on vacation?
She walked to the nurses’ station where Ian was sitting in front of a computer. He smiled as she approached. “Hey, good lookin’.”
Autumn smiled back, leaning on the desk. “Hey, Ian. I haven’t seen Salma this week or last.”
His smile slipped. “They didn’t tell you? She was let go.”
Autumn’s breath stalled. “What? Why?”No, no, that can’t be right. Salma was the best of the best.
