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Those I remembered from when I was a child. Vaguely, since I had been so small at the time, but I used to wake up at night from the pain—not unlike tonight—to find the hefty marks covering my form. The worse they became, the more desperate my dad grew, trying to find a treatment for me.
Glancing into my tired eyes in the foggy glass, I returned to the shower—carefully washing myself not to hurt my blood vessels any further than they already were—and went to bed.
“Morning,” I greeted Old Man Müller the next day, finding him in his rocking chair as usual.
“Good mor—” His words halted when he looked at me, eyes widening. “What happened to you?”
His alarm made me turn to the small wall mirror, and my heart lodged in my throat. Purple crooked lines encircled my right eye. Not exactly like someone had punched me, more like the vessels themselves were bruised.
“Oh, I, um. I fell out of bed and hit myself with the corner of the night table,” I lied, turning to look at him once more. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
As he frowned at me, trying to figure out whether or not I was telling the truth, my heart raced. I couldn’t remember the hematomas ever reaching my face when I was little, but most of all, they had never been so distinctive. My body I could easily cover with a long sleeve shirt, but my face was another story.
Rushing out of the house with a mumbled excuse, I stopped by the pharmacy, getting one of those concealers women used in the closest color I could find to my skin, and carefully applied the thick cream to my eye while I sat on the bus.
* * *
The golden ring that sat on the shelf in my locker called to me while I drank the last of my soda, finishing my lunch. I still had like five minutes left on my break before I had to go back to the front, but I couldn’t stop looking at it.
Evanna had left it on the table after she rushed out of here that day, and hadn’t returned.
Reaching for it, I took it between my index finger and thumb, slowly turning and admiring it. Just like all the times before, the second I touched it, the white crystal carved along the body of the Dragon illuminated a brilliant blue, like nothing I had ever seen before. Part of me wondered if it was something similar to those mood rings girls loved—the ones that changed colors depending on, well, your mood. Except, this one only glowed blue, and only when I grabbed it. Nothing happened when the guys touched it.
One thing I had to admit. The craftsmanship was really cool. It looked like something ancient, perhaps carved with primitive tools, giving it an edgy look that you didn’t really find on jewelry these days. I wasn’t one for wearing chains or anything like it, but I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again, so lifting the chain to my neck, I went to put it on—
“Hey, are you ready?” Josh asked from the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s getting kind of crazy for Nick and I out here.”
A smirk tilted my lips. “So, what you are saying is that you are nothing without me?”
Josh’s mouth twitched, and he gave me a meaningful but dramatic look. “Dude, you are the reason for my existence. You complete me,” he answered, pointing at both of us and then drew a heart in the air.
“Idiot.” We laughed while I let the chain fall around my neck, slipping the ring into my shirt, and closed my locker. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Rebecca you are gay, and definitely obsessed with me.”
“Right,” he snorted, following me out to the front. “At least I wasn’t gay last night, if you know what I mean.”
My face scrunched up as I looked at him. “I don’t like this game anymore.”
Chuckling, Josh jogged back to the sandwich station while Nick placed yet another order onto the pile accumulating on the counter. My attention swiftly shifted to the people gathering in the line, and I hurried back to the register.
He was right. It was crazy today.
After the lunch rush was over, two hours later, it was clean up time. It felt like we hadn’t stopped for a second. Nick tended to the tables, bringing back the empty plates and placing them inside the high-temp washer under the counter, while Josh replenished the salads, cheeses, and cold cuts for the paninis.
Taking a clean towel, I got it wet and began to wipe off the coffee station, trying to ignore the strain my muscles were struggling with, especially on the areas where the bruises were. The guys and I were well synchronized, like a dance, and the sight brought a smile to my face.
I loved this job.
I loved the feeling I got when someone gushed about their meal. Getting great tips because the customers appreciated the quality of our work, and the way they were treated. I loved seeing the place bursting with customers. But most of all, I enjoyed feeling accomplished at the end of each day, regardless of how many shifts I had worked, how many busses I had to take, or how beat I felt when I finally laid on the bed.
So I was truly going to miss it all once this illness fully took over me, and I could no longer work.
It was such a big part of me, I never imagined not having it anymore.
Clearing my throat, I proceeded as usual, filling the baskets with fresh coffee, and then turned to clean the steam wand. The instant my hand reached for it, my surroundings abruptly vanished. They seemed ripped away from me like a Band-Aid, and clear blue skies replaced them.
The floor disappeared from under my feet, but I became as light as air. Weightless, I glided through the mountains—like I had once done as a child. The warm breeze gently swayed against my skin while my large wings flapped lazily, taking me higher and higher.
My gaze lifted to the horizon. Brilliant aquamarine waters shimmered with golden specs from the bright sun reflecting onto its mirror-like surface, and hues of orange, pink, and yellow washed away along its edge. Enjoying my reflection on the never-ending sea below, I appreciated the sight of my form among floating lime-green mountains and drifting clouds.
