Making Me Smile

I stumbled into my class and clutched my head. My head was pounding and I just felt strange. I walked over and around to the back, where Danny and I sat.
I plopped down into my chair and laid my head on my desk. I groaned.
I didn’t even move when I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. “Lacy, are you okay?”
I reluctantly lifted my head and flipped my hair back. “Yeah, I guess.” I looked over at Danny. His curly hair was still wet. He must have just taken a shower. “I just feel…not myself, I guess.”
He looked concerned. “Why don’t you go back to your dorm? You can do that, you know. Just talk to Mr. Cotton.”
I was already shaking my head. “No. It’s only my second week here. I don’t want to miss a class.”
“But if you’re feeling bad – “
I cut him off. “No, I’m fine.” I glanced over at him and realized I might have been too harsh. “I’m sorry Daniel, I know you meant well. But I feel fine.”
I gave him a thin-lipped smile, but he didn’t look convinced.
“Class!” Mr. Cotton yelled, “Simmer down! I know you’re excited! It’s nine-thirty on a Monday morning! Who isn’t excited?” The class laughed and I smiled, despite the steady throbbing in my head. “Now let’s get started on your favorite thing: History!”
Mr. Cotton was actually really awesome. He was the kind of teacher that would jump off a bridge to make sure a student knew how gravity worked, even if he wasn’t a science teacher.
I tried to pay attention, but the steady throbbing turned into violent pulsing which turned into a constant stream of pain. My eyes unfocused and my world started to blur.
“Lacy?”
The voice was muffled, like it came from somewhere outside. Or behind a glass.
Voices sounded all around me, but I couldn’t place them, they were muted, like the volume was on low.
And then I just needed to get out. The walls were closing in on me and the voices were getting louder and louder but I still couldn’t hear what they were saying and I left.
I left and went stumbling/running down the hall, clutching my head and moaning in pain. I couldn’t see anything clearly and my vision was slowly fading to black.
“Perfect.”
My eyes rolled back in terror and my blood ran cold. The voice wasn’t from the outside – it came from inside me. In my head.
Blindly, I threw my fist and punched what I thought was thin air, but instead my hand crushed under the impact. Something shattered and my hand exploded in pain. The pain thrust me back into reality and I looked down in shock. Cuts laced my knuckles and jagged shards of glass stuck out from my skin at odd angles. Blood ran all the way down my wrist.
I jumped in the air and shook my hand. “Holy mother of freaking God –“
“Lacy?” A quiet voice penetrated the mindless pain.
I spun around and held my broken hand to my chest. “Heather?” I whimpered.
She nodded. Her brown-almost-black hair was tied up in two loose buns on each side of her head, and her messy bangs brushed her eyes. Her blouse was un-tucked from her skirt and her bow was just hanging from her neck. Her shockingly blue eyes were swimming with concern, but she still managed to look disinterested.
“What are you doing here? Do you have a free period or something?” My face was scrunched up and I tried to keep the pain out of my voice. I was a bloody mess and she acted as if we were discussing lunch meats!
“No. I had science.” She responded dreamily.
I stared at her in silence, unsure of what to say. Seriously?
She moved forward and tentatively reached out and touched my hand. “That looks painful.”
“Yeah.”
She looked up and met my eyes. She bit her pale pink lips. “Do you mind?”
“Um…sure.”
She reached out and, with meticulous, practiced precision, pulled each shard of glass from my knuckles. I raised my other fist and bit down on it, trying not to cry out.
With the shattered window pieces carefully placed on the windowsill, my wounds were flowing much more freely, and all I could think was that with all the blood, I was going to stain my white blouse.
Heather wrapped her tiny hands around mine, one on the top and one on the bottom. Her muscles relaxed and her eyes slipped shut.
Worried, I looked over my shoulder, almost hoping someone would save me from Heather, who was now holding my hand. But I did a double take when the pain started to dissipate. My hand was tingling, like it was asleep, and a soft white glow was coming from Heather’s palms.
The whole thing lasted about three minutes. Heather pulled away and smiled.
“How does it feel?”
“How does it feel?” I laughed out loud and flexed my hand. “Amazing!”
She smiled again. “Welcome to Worcester.”

“Thanks again for walking me to my dorm. And thanks for, well, this.” I gestured to my hand and Heather nodded. She was back to being mysterious. “Are you going to go back to Science?”
She shook her head. “Healing you made me quite hungry. I’ll go to the Dining Hall and sneak into the Kitchens.”
“Are you allowed to do that?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I pressed my lips together. “Well have fun. Get something to eat.”
“Goodbye Lacy,” Heather said. She walked away without a word. I shook my head.
“Goodbye Heather.”
I pushed my key into the hole and opened the door. I stripped of my uniform and pulled on a pair of leggings and my mom’s old University of Michigan sweatshirt. I washed my face and pulled my hair into a ponytail.
With a smile on my lips, I clambered into bed. I rested on the cushy pillows and exhaled.
Welcome to Worcester.