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Chapter Sixteen
The room was dark and I strained to make out familiar shapes. There was a narrow bed pushed against the wall and I could see the outline of a desk next to it. I could make out shapes of buildings through the window, but it was pitch black outside as well. A light suddenly flicked on, a small lamp on the desk that barely illuminated its immediate surroundings, leaving the rest of the room shrouded in darkness.
I first noticed that there was someone sitting next to the desk when I saw a hand reach out, opening a drawer. The figure moved closer to the desk until I could make out his features. His blond hair glimmered under the dim light and he turned towards me, as if he sensed someone was there. His brown eyes looked in my direction, but he looked through me and I knew he couldn't see me.
I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came out. I was frustrated as I was reduced to just watching him.
He turned back to his desk, taking a small box out of the drawer he had opened. Dread filled me as he opened the box and pulled out a razor. I wanted to rush over and snatch it out of his hands, but I was glued to the spot, my legs not listening to my commands to move.
He looked up again, but this time not in my direction. I followed his gaze but I couldn't see anything in the dark. He turned his attention back to the razor, studying it as if it held the answers to life.
My heart started pumping furiously when I saw a hand emerge from the shadows, gripping the boy's hand that was holding the razor. The boy looked up, his eyes widening in fear but he made no sound, as if he was transfixed by what he saw. The shadowy hand took the razor from him, and before my mind could process what I knew was about it happen, the hand jerked the razor against the boy's wrist, slashing it brutally as blood poured out of the gaping wound.
I wanted to scream, even if it was inside my own head, but I forced myself to remain calm, to not miss a detail of what was happening.
The boy looked down at his sliced wrist with his mouth wide open, as if he didn't believe what he saw. He raised his unharmed wrist, as if he wanted to see if it was bleeding as well. I swallowed a whimper when I saw the shadowy hand again raise the razor that was now dripping with crimson blood, ripping it into his other wrist.
The boy raised his head, holding his hands up as rivulets of blood streamed down from his hacked wrists. But he didn't look in the direction of his assailant. He looked directly at me, his expression one of surprise.
"What are you doing here?"
I woke up with a gasp, my body shaking as I tried to ground myself in reality. I concentrated on the feeling of the bed under me, the soft pillow cradling my head, until I felt myself step back from the precipice of panic.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
I turned to Simon who was hovering over me, concern glinting in his eyes. I didn't trust myself to speak, knowing that if I tried to explain what I had just seen that I would dissolve into tears.
Simon pulled me closer to him so that I was on my side with my back against his front, cocooned in his warmth. He wrapped his arm around my waist, burying his face in my neck and murmuring soothing words.
My breathing finally started to regulate but I still didn't want to say out loud the ugly words of what I had seen. Simon seemed to understand my reluctance to speak so he just held me tight, kissing my neck softly, not out of passion but comfort.
The night was just barely on the cusp of dawn and we watched the hazy morning glow fill the room. We both seemed unwilling to break the silence, both lost in our thoughts.
I finally turned towards Simon, his arms still holding me tight. "I had a vision."
Simon's lips tightened but he nodded. "I thought as much. What happened in it?"
"I saw a boy slice his wrists. Well, he didn't really do it. His vardoger did." I couldn't give any more details than that. It was still too fresh in my mind.
"Now what?"
"Even though the vision was terrifying, now that they've returned it means I can actually do something about the vardogers. I just have to figure out who this boy is. He was in a dorm room and I could see the math building through his window. The math building is directly across from Bowery Hall. I lived there my freshman year and I'm sure it's the same dorm hall."
"So what's your plan? To hang around Bowery Hall until you see him?"
Simon's sardonic tone grated on me. I pushed against his chest but he didn't release me. "Actually, that is my plan. Do you have a problem with that?"
Simon sighed heavily, tightening his arms around me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that. It's just...the thought of you putting yourself in danger is driving me crazy. Everything is so good right now. I just don't want it to change."
I took a deep breath, telling myself to be patient. "I understand where you're coming from. And I appreciate your concern. I really do. But this is what I'm meant to do. I can't
sit idly by and let some innocent boy die because I can't be bothered."
I put my hand on Simon's jaw, his stubble raspy beneath my fingertips. I leaned towards him and kissed him softly, asking him to understand. Simon drew in a long breath and returned the kiss, nipping at my lips and then deepening it, his tongue caressing mine with long seductive strokes.
My heart was beating fast again when we broke apart, but now for an entirely different reason. Simon pulled me even closer, as if he were trying to meld our bodies together, cradling my head in the crook of his neck.
"I know you have to do this. I just...I can't lose you."
