Rated 12+ for fantasy and violence.
Snapping out of her frightened state, Anna opened her mouth to retort that she had absolutely nothing to hide and that Sympa was being ridiculous, but dead stopped in her words upon realizing she wasn’t too sure. From the moment she had met Darell she had known that she had a secret to hide, something that she couldn’t tell anyone. The only problem was that she herself didn’t even know it. In a way, it was good she didn’t exactly know so she couldn’t spill, but it was also bad because she felt as if she didn’t even know herself.
Sympa took her silence in with such a giddy smile it made Anna sick. Trying to ignore Sympa’s soft chuckle, she slid beneath the water. As the hot water nearly burned her open eyes, a thought came to her. “You’ll live a life of misery and pain if you don’t learn how to control that bad attitude of yours.” She could as easily remember how Darell said it as if he were right there, saying it. Her heart burned with failure as she lay there, and suddenly, the world before her blurred and the one that had been in her dream only moments before covered her. She was standing right there, staring at Darell just as she had been before. The front door suddenly opened and immediately Melany’s voice began singing about some adventure she had had at the pub, but Anna didn’t hear a word she was saying. She faintly noticed Darell looking away from her and addressing Melany, but couldn't hear the words he was saying, and neither the words that she replied. Anna stood there in a dizzy daze, confused at the words that people were speaking or what was happening. She watched everyone move, and heard the words, but her brain didn’t process it. Not until Celine shook her and screamed her name in her ear did she even know where she was.
She suddenly jumped and spun away from Darell to face her. The room was quiet, nearly silent except for someone’s heavy breathing--she looked at Celine with a question on her face. “Where are we?”
“Still at work.” Celine examined her for a moment or two in concern. “Are you feeling okay?”
Her personality was the last to come back to her, but it snapped back with surprising intensity. “I’m fine,” she said brusquely, glancing around the room. “Where’s Melany? I thought she just came in.”
“She did, and then she left. She wasn’t feeling well, remember?”
Wasn’t feeling well . . . Anna just saw in her mind the image of Melany, with dark circles under her eyes, announce weakly that she was going home, and realized that yes, she did remember.
“Yeah, I remember.” She turned her attention to Darell, and her breath came in sharp. He was lying on the bed limply, his eyes closed, a dull look on his face. “What happened?”
“He fell asleep just a few seconds ago. You were staring straight at him.” Again Celine stared at Anna as if actually worried by her behavior. “What’s wrong? Is it about Father coming tonight?”
It was an amazing lie, so Anna used it. “Yeah, it’s about Father. I’m just all-around unhappy about it.”
“Sorry about that, but you better get over it, because we have to go.”
“What? Go where?”
“You’re asking really stupid questions,” Celine responded rather harshly, turning away from Anna to gather up her bag with medicine in it. “Home, for dinner with Father.” She set the bag on Melany’s desk and clicked it open, beginning to load it. Anna watched Celine for a moment, wildly trying to think up an excuse not to go to dinner. She mentally cursed herself for not thinking this up earlier, perhaps instead of drawing, but tried to forget her self reprimandation and burst out, “But, Celine, I’m feeling rather ill--”
“Then I’ll give you a tonic,” she cut in quickly, shaking a purple-ish vile before shrugging and stuffing it in her bag. She added, realizing Anna’s intentions, “You still have to go.”
But Anna wasn’t one to give up. “But--er--what about Darell?”
“What about him?” Her back still turned to Anna, she picked up a large popsicle stick and held it up to the light, obviously questioning whether or not to take it with her. With a shrug, she threw it in.
“Think it over, Celine. If Melany left and we left, then who’s going to take care of him?” Celine continued packing, seemingly unaffected by Anna's desperate attempts to get Darell to go home with them.
“Since when have you cared about your patients?” she asked nonchalantly.
“Since-- . . . since . . .” Anna faltered, unsure of what to say. Since I really liked one? Since one seemed completely perfect? Since one hasn’t brushed me off without a thought? “Since I’ve had a real patient?”
The smile that Celine gave Anna was sudden--so sudden that Anna nearly jumped. “You mean to say, since you’ve had a real cute patient?”
Bull’s eye.
Completely furious that Celine had found her out, Anna muttered, with a glare fit to kill, “Shut up.”
“Oh, I can see it now. That little devious plan that just formed in your head. You’re going to get him home, and then you’re going to try to make him fall in love with you, and oh goodness, Anna, can’t you just give it a rest?”
There was a reason for these words. For the past few months, every time Anna had spotted a boy even remotely cute, she had commented on it, tried to get them to hang out with her, told them how wonderful or funny or handsome they were--in all honesty, she tried to stimulate a relationship. Celine didn’t quite understand. She had met Raf when she was six, and they had promised their marriage since then. No guy had ever felt for Anna, or if they had, they hadn’t made it known. Not only that, but Anna had felt a hole in her heart ever since she came back from school, and was hoping it could be filled with a boyfriend.
“I don’t think about him that way,” she lied, just like she always did. “And he doesn’t think about me that way either.”
“Mhm.” Celine gave another one of her famous smiles, those ‘I know the truth, you liar,’ smiles, those smiles that Anna hated.
Shaking her head as if to rid herself of Celine’s words and smile, she tried the soft approach. It was one she didn't particularly like, but it always seemed to get to Celine. “Please, Celine. I really care about this patient.”
Upon hearing these words, Celine nearly dropped a green-ish gray-ish tonic she was holding. She placed it on Melany’s desk slowly, then spun to give Anna a look of complete and utter incredibility. “What did you just say?”
Anna sighed and looked away, knowing what was coming next. Without a moment’s hesitation and with a devious smile, Celine grabbed Anna and sat her down on Melany’s desk. She gabbed her mouth open, pulled her popsicle stick out of her medicine bag and, laughing slightly, stuck it in Anna’s mouth. Though Anna understood why she was doing it--obviously to check if she was sick, because she had feelings--she was quite unhappy with her and gave her a chilling look.
“Say ‘ah’.”
“Ah ate oo,” Anna grumbled.
“I’m sorry?” with a giggle.
“Ah ate oo.”
Still grinning, “Come again?”
Anna pulled the stick from her mouth and broke it straight in half, thrusting it into her sister’s hands. “Do you understand me now? I hate you.”
“Anna!” screamed Celine unhappily, staring at her now-broken popsicle stick. “Why . . . oh, Anna, just tell me why you have to be so rude all the time!”
“Me?” she asked with anger thick in her voice. “You’re the rude one!”
“How--?” began Celine, but she stopped, shaking her head, realizing the fight obviously wasn’t worth it. She walked back to the medicine bag, threw the pieces on the desk, and sat down in Melany’s chair helplessly. There was a moment of silence, broken by nothing but Darell’s deep, even, and calm breathing. His eyes were closed peacefully, nearly hidden underneath his thick hair, his chest rising and falling softly. Anna stared at him for a moment longer than needed, because to her, he looked like some sort of angel. Instead of feeling romantic over such a thought, Anna only considered it. Angel? You don’t think--but before she could ask herself what she apparently didn’t think, Celine’s voice came, apologetic and small.
“What should we do?”
Anna couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “We should obviously do what I said we should do--we should take Darell to our house.”
Celine looked up, her brow furrowed in confusion. “There were too many ‘should’s in that sentence.”
“Grammar freak,” Anna shot.
“Uneducated.”
These words brought a painful thought to Anna--immediately she saw her school years in her mind’s eye, and a shiver went down her back at the mere memory of the school’s name. “It doesn’t matter,” she muttered a bit too sadly, “we just need to get Darell back to our house.”
“Anna, it can’t happen. We have a dinner with Father tonight.”
Part 2
