Sick

I watched Ramona grab her head and crouch, as if trying to become as small as possible so something big and scary wouldn't find her. I took another step away from her, even though I was supposed to be her nurse. I was supposed to helping her inside, instead we were outside and I was putting distance between us.

Suddenly, Ramona stopped screaming and her silence as unsettling as she straightened up, her hair acting as a curtain between us.

“Ramona?” I asked carefully and her body shook, looking very strange until a sound started to come from her: laughter. The laugh sounded twisted and slightly reminded me of the ringing of a wineglass.

Ramona's head lifted slightly and she twitched, flicking her hair out of her face without using her hands, which were slightly curled at her sides, like waiting claws.

“Ramona's not here, Elijah. She's sleeping now,” Ramona said and I rose my eyes from her fingers to her face and took another step back. Her pupils, irises, and whites, were completely blacked out, bottomless pits that peered down to my bones and beyond.

“Then who are you?” I asked, wishing nurses were allowed to have weapons.

“I am Ridley, and Ramona is mine,” she said slowly, as if talking to an infant, but I could almost taste her rage.

“Look, I-”

“Silence!” Her voice made me cower slightly, as her feet moved her in my direction. I matched each of her advancing footsteps with a receding one. She smirked as my foot landed wrong, and my arms swung out to catch myself, but my fingers ran through thin air.

I hit the ground with a groan and Ridley loomed over me. She grabbed each side of my head and lifted me half-off the ground.

“You're not going to touch her,” she growled, slamming my head back into the ground, the blow making me taste blood as I bit my tongue. She lifted my head again and I grabbed her hands, trying to get her off of me.

“You're not going to ruin her,” she hissed, and despite my best efforts, threw me back into the ground, the back of my head beginning to throb.

“I'm not doing anything to her,” I moaned, and felt her skin heat up against mine, like a fire coming to life.

“If you touch her, I'm going to kill you,” she hissed, bringing my face very lose to hers. I felt my palms and my face heat up as she smiled down at me. When the heat began to hurt, I began to squirm.

“I'm not going to touch her,” I screamed, and Ridley brushed her white-hot lips across my cheekbone, causing intense pain to prick my eyes with tears. She cut off my screams by slamming my head back into the ground and covering my mouth with one of her small hands.

“Actually, she's not going to touch you,” she said and laid a hand on my chest, catching the thin material of my uniform on fire. I screamed and kicked, but she only smiled.

I tried to throw her off, but her strength was superfluous, and she held on with ease as she burned parts of my chest with a simple flick of her hand.

“You tell them,” she started seductively, rubbing the material of her pant leg against a new, bubbling burn, “that you helped someone with a fire. If you tell someone about me, they'll think Ramona is crazy, and she'll be put away forever, all because of you. I wont let that happen. You won't either, will you Elijah?”

She slid a fingernail harshly across my bicep, the pain spreading like wildfire. I moaned into her hand; it hurt to even breathe.

“You're all vicious, you men. You wont try anything with her, and she wont try anything with a pathetic little thing like you. I'll be surprised if you get your dick wet again,” she spat, and stood up, shaking me off like I was an annoying insect. I hissed, slowly drawing myself into a standing position. Behind me, Ridley was talking to herself.

I turned around, and found Ramona staring back at me with wide eyes. The remains of my shirt fluttered to the ground and I stared at it, instead of her.