Day 164 – Folie á Deux – Part 6

Written in about 15 minutes. Sorry

Word count: 660

“Catherine!!!!” Vicky screamed.
Catherine was yanked back from the road by Vicky and thrown towards safety, car horns screeching and tires skidding.
“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Vicky was savaged with rage, “You could have been killed!”
Catherine was panting heavily; she was not quite taking in what had happened. She looked, hadn’t she? She’d seen it was clear – or, or…. From the corner of her eye she could still see it. For the life of her she could not explain why she was seeing it. A country lane: a quiet country lane was expanding down the street that she knew was meant to be occupied by terrace houses and corner shops.
“Vicky, Vicky!” Catherine was shivering with fear – what was happening to her?
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Vicky immediately ran to comfort her sister and put her arm around her, “I shouldn’t have shouted… I – you just walked out! Are you alright?”
“Vicky, Vicky can you see it? Can you see it too?” Catherine pointed a trembling finger down the country lane she could see.
“See what?”
“Can you see the fields?”
“Catherine, what’s wrong, what’s happening?”
Catherine could feel her weight becoming dead, her knees buckled and she fell limply to the ground. Swimming around her head were images of fields and country lanes; busy little hedgerows of birds and bugs, butterflies and bees. Mingled in between the calming tweeting of the country were engine noises of cars zooming into second gear and beeping their horns, radio and music blaring out of windows and buses angrily stopping at traffic lights. Vicky held Catherine in her arms, wildly looking around for help. She kept slapping her sister’s cheek to test for consciousness, but Catherine was by now somewhere else entirely.
Catherine was standing in a room. It was small. It had a wardrobe and a bed and window. It did not look lived in. A soft wind billowed a net curtain in and a dull light filled the room. It was not any room that she had ever been in or recognized from anywhere. It was clean, clinical, unused. She was just standing there, looking at the curtain blowing in the wind. She could not move or control anything. It was as if she were looking through a video camera.
“Catherine, Catherine….. Catherine?”
Vicky’s voice woke her. A harsh bright light streamed in like daggers from her living room window. Overcome with grogginess, Catherine tried to sit up, but felt ill.
“I need to vomit!”
Before she knew it a bucket had been thrust under her and Catherine was puking up.
“Are you alright?” Vicky rubbed her back gently as Catherine spat out the dregs of her stomach.
“I’m not sure,” she spat, “I… How did we get back here?”
“I called mum. We took you back in the car. You were dead to the world. We couldn’t wake you. You’ve been asleep for almost a whole day.”
“What? It’s – it’s tomorrow already?”
“Yeah. It’s half twelve. Mum’s at work. You’ve been puking up all night. The doctor’s came round yesterday afternoon but they couldn’t do anything until you were awake.”
“But – but we were at the road, we were at the traffic, the lights, the country lane?”
“Country lane?” Vicky looked confused.
Catherine felt more than just acid burning in her stomach. What had happened to her? She remembered the room she had been in. Even the sensation of not being able to move was still with her.
“What do you mean, country lane?” Vicky prodded further.
Catherine pondered the idea for a second. Could she say? The idea of seeing a country lane where she knew there were shops and houses was ridiculous. What was wrong with her? Was she going mad? What was happening to her body? Still semi blinded by the light, imprinted on the back of her eyelids was that same unused room that she was unable to move in….

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~ by S.G. Mark on March 19, 2012.

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