Dark Celebration

        It started again.  I stretched my hand out, touched the cool brick along the alley wall, and tried to get control.  I wondered, not for the first time, how she could call it a blessing.  I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears.

    "Not now," I begged.  "I only want to get home.”  Pushing away from the wall, and refusing to give in I picked up my pace.

      I wasn't used to walking home so late, but work ran long, leaving me traipsing the darkened street alone.  The night didn't bother me, but the loneliness weighed heavy against my imagination.  The lamps, barely able to push back the blackness, flickered their silent warnings.  A stray cat interrupted my uneasy cadence as it rummaged through the trash to find its evening meal.  At my approach it crouched, appearing poised to leap in defense of its bounty.  I met its eyes, offered it a slight smile, and left it staring after me.  Once I passed I longed for its company as my queasiness coupled with anxiety. 

    Nausea grew with each step, overflowing my stomach and filling my chest, until even short breaths were rebuffed in rapid succession.  I stopped, forced air into my lungs, and said a silent prayer.  It was worse this time than ever before.

    "Just breathe, Jaime," I said, willing myself to inhale.  "Just breathe."

    My head pounded, working a discordant rhythm with my heart.  The Fates have blessed you, my girl. Grandmother's words echoed inside my head. Child, they will come, whether you want them to or not. I closed my eyes, remembered her guidance, and managed a deep breath.  "I don’t want this," I beseeched aloud to the night, knowing they refused to hear me.

    I held my head and forced myself forward, squinting through tear filled eyes at my surroundings.  Whatever was causing this lied ahead and the only way to make them stop was to find it.

    Just as I turned the last corner to my block a shadow darkened the corner of my gaze.  The hammering blows threatened to break through the invisible barrier inside my mind.  I doubled over and, bracing myself against my knees I gasped for breath.  The coolness of the night air hit the back of my throat with force, constricting the passageway to my lungs.

    Don’t fight them child.  Let them in.

    Coughing, fighting for breath, and just as afraid now as I was when grandma first beseeched me with those same words, I lifted my foot and pressed forward.  Refusing them entry I moved towards the shadow, praying it was the thing that would quell the battering.  I wiped my eyes with useless repetitiveness as I took one hesitant step after another.

    Then more quickly than it started it stopped.  I’d found what they wanted me to find and they receded, content, for now.  I managed a deep breath of relief and then a quick intake of air as I moved close enough to realize what the shadow enfolded.

    You’ve got to be kidding me.

  A prostrate form lay in the street a short distance ahead.  One more step revealed it to be a man with patterns of blood painting his chest and face. The smell wrapped its copper blanket around my tongue and squeezed.  I clenched my lips together and hesitated before taking another step.  I didn’t feel in danger, but at the same time I knew somehow I wasn't safe.  I watched for a sign of movement. 

      Nothing stirred.  Fearing he was dead I took the last few steps towards him.  A light rap emanated inside my aching head.  Be careful. Grandmother’s words pushed their way to the surface.

    “Help,” whispered a deep, unsteady voice.

    My ears pounded with a silent scream and I stumbled backwards.  “He’s alive,” I breathed, needing my own affirmation.

    A street lamp threw a yellowed glow at my back, casting a shadow across his right side and obscuring his face.  I knelt down; feeling compelled to help him, and touched my fingers to his neck.  Every hair stood up, as if electricity surged through me.  I gasped, jerked my hand back, and fought for my next breath.

    “Help.”  It was his voice again, but this time I heard it inside my head.

    What’s happening?

    The energy from the touch coursed through me igniting my flight reflex.  Panting, I plead with my heavy limbs to carry me away from here, not caring whether the Fates beat a whole in my head.  Maybe they’d finally get the picture and rescind their gift, bestowing it on someone else more worthy.

    I managed to shift my body, allowing my shadow to huddle at his feet.  The light cast a sickly glow across his face, exposing the red of both fresh and dried battle tears.  He had high cheekbones and a strong chin.  His dark hair made an appealing contrast to his pale skin and blushed lips.  He was bruised and bloody, but the set to his jaw belied any vulnerability. 

    He needs you, get it together!

    Blood pooled on the pavement around his upper body.  His black T-shirt hung, shredded and soaked against his chest, and his tattered jeans showed heavy wear.

    Who did this to you?  I brushed a thick strand of his hair away from his face, just as he opened his eyes and turned them towards me.  The residue of energy echoed, and then faded again. 

    I shook my head to clear my mind.  I didn’t have time to think about the meaning.

    “You need an ambulance," I stammered.

    He didn’t respond.

    “Can you hear me?”          

    His forehead wrinkled and his eyes squinted as he attempted to raise his head.  “No, no that won’t work.  Just help me up”, he gasped. 

    “The hospital is four blocks away.  You’ll never make it on foot in your condition.”

    “I’m not going to the hospital.”

    “I can’t leave you here."  I looked around for emphasis.  "You’re really hurt.”

    “Thanks but-,” he said, turning his head away, “but I can't go to the hospital.” 

    “So what then?  You lay here and bleed to death?" 

    “No, I…”

    You're asking for trouble, I chastised myself.  But I was impetuous as much as I was stubborn and he needed me.  Or are you just drawn to him?  I shushed my thoughts and with a tension releasing breath found it easier to move.

    "You’ll have to come home with me.  Can you sit up?” I asked, giving him my hand.  He took it and started to rise with my help, but fell back as pain racked his features. 

    His chest heaved from effort and his breath caught in his throat as he tried again, this time making it to his knees.  We knelt face to face as he released his breath with a small groan.