Possessed: Chapter Two

The test was even harder than Donna thought it would be. Part of the reason it was so hard was probably that the voices in her head wouldn't shut up.

“What do you mean; the sun is what heats the earth? I’m the one that heats the earth! I’m the sun god!” It was the seductive male voice.

“No, I heat it! Er, we both heat it! Apollo, we already had this discussion.” This voice was new. It seemed ancient, and spoke with an accent. Middle Eastern, maybe? Donna wondered why the new voice had chosen to name the other Apollo. Wasn't he, like, in Greek myths?

“INSULTING!” Apollo’s voice was no longer silky. It was filled with rage. In fact, it was so angry Donna could feel it pressuring to burst her mind. She began to see shapes she hadn't noticed before: little pink dragons floated through the air; hot air balloons in the high school industrial lighting were carrying unicorns and leprechauns over rainbows towards pots of gold. Uh-oh, Donna thought. She wasn’t an expert on crazy, but she was pretty sure the voice had screwed with her mind.

“Apollo. Keep yelling, and you’ll drive her insane. Donna, honey, we need to have a talk.” This voice was female, but Donna hadn’t heard it before. Her head began to pound.

Donna got up and nearly ran to Mrs. Harley’s desk. “Mrs. Harley, I feel like I’m going to puke. My head hurts like crazy.”

Mrs. Harley lazily looked up from her computer screen. “I suppose you didn’t study very well. You’ll go home, study harder, and come back to take the test on Monday.” The science teacher was interrupted by Apollo.

“Why would we study something as stupid as fake astronomy?” he pondered.

Whoa. “We.” Not a good sign. Donna thought.

“Of course, we! Well, I guess it wouldn’t be an ‘of course’ situation if you don’t understand what is going on. Child, we need to talk.” It was the female who had scolded Apollo.

“I’ll have you know, that strategy won’t work.” Donna was almost thankful for the annoying teacher. At least when Mrs. Harley gave her headaches, it was the “Omg this is so boring,” not the “Omg I think my head is going to burst” kind.

“Now go sit down.” The teacher’s voice was still bored, like she didn’t understand Donna’s dire situation.

Donna didn’t mean to, but a belch escaped her lips. Her hands flew to cover her mouth. Mrs. Harley looked utterly repulsed.

Donna’s face began to sweat. She could feel the cold, clamminess of her cheeks. She was sure her skin was as white as a sheet of paper.

“I suppose that you are not joking. I will tell you, though; I will make an entirely new test that is much more difficult, just for you. I do suspect that nerves and regret of your foolish studying habits have caused this sudden, unfortunate illness.”

How thick must Mrs. Harley’s skull be to think that Donna cared about the stupid test?

“You may go to the bathroom. Please refrain from running through the halls.”

Donna bolted for the door, ignoring Mrs. Harley’s protests. She dashed into the nearest bathroom and spun into a stall.

When her stomach was done emptying itself, Donna shakily got to her feet. Her head still throbbed, but she felt better. She hobbled to the sink and splashed water on her face, then rinsed out her mouth.

Against her better judgment, Donna glanced in the mirror. Her normally tan skin was the color of milk, and her pink, full lips made her skin look even whiter. Her cocoa brown hair was plastered to her forehead. Her hazel eyes held tears in their corners.

“You look beautiful. Now can we have that chat?” It was the female.

Donna glanced around, making sure they were alone. When she was confident of it, her gaze returned to the mirror. “What’s wrong with me?” She whispered the question so quietly, the sound barely left her lips.

“ First off, I’m sorry I made you sick.” It was the one called Apollo. He didn’t sound particularly sorry. “I do believe that honor belongs to me.” Forget sorry. Apollo sound quite proud of the fact that he made Donna sick, and had given her a splitting headache. Donna could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Second, nothing is wrong with you. You have a gift!” He sounded so happy, Donna wondered what could be so horrible about the gift. No person, voice, whatever could be so genuinely happy about given somebody else a “gift.”

“Apollo! Maybe I would be better suited to explain this to you. This is going to surprise you. Is it possible you could go someplace… cozier? We want you to be happy.” The female spoke.

“My mom won’t pick me up early. I could go to the sick room, though.” Donna murmured.

She didn’t bother picking up her belongings at Mrs. Harley’s. For one thing, Donna was certain Mrs. Harley would sit her down and make her finish the test. For another, it was 6th period on a Friday. She could just pick her stuff up on Monday, before homeroom. So instead of stopping by the classroom, Donna went straight to the office. She ducked inside and quickly slipped inside the sickroom, unnoticed by office staff.

The blue bench was cold, hard, and lumpy. The walls had been painted a sterile white. The only color in the long, narrow room was on the bench and a matching chair, and on a “Flu Prevention” poster. Not exactly cozy, but it would have to do. Okay, shoot away, Donna thought.

“Bam, bam, bam!” Apollo made a sound like an artillery gun.

“Apollo! I’m sorry, Donna. My brother tends to be sarcastic. Okay, so where were we… ah, yes. You’ve studied mythology, right?” Before Donna could reply, the female continued. “You see, the gods the myths are about are still alive, if you will. They still exist.”

“Greek gods are still around? Wait, they existed in the first place?” Donna whispered.

“And Egyptian gods! How racist is that? Only thinking that Greek gods existed?” It was the gruff female voice that had spoken to Donna so long ago.

“Roman, too.” This voice was new, but it sounded familiar. It was very formal and female. It reminded Donna of the first lady: the voice carried itself.

Other voices began to chime in, but the first female raised her voice and shushed them. “Actually, almost all of the gods that any myth has been written about still exist.” She spoke the word “myth” with distaste, like she hated the word. “You may refer to me as Artemis.”

Artemis waited for all of this to register. Before Donna could mention that it wouldn’t register, that it was freaking her out, the bell rang. Time can really fly when you’re listening to gods talk.

Donna stood up and rushed out the office door, then shoved through the crowds of students and surged out the school’s main entrance doors. She began the mile long walk to her apartment. The gods stayed silent as she picked her way through the sidewalks, navigating through L.A. traffic like it was easy (which it was, so long as you are born and raised in L.A.). With a final right turn, she bounded up the stairs and turned the key to let herself into the apartment.

Her mother wasn’t home. “Figures. She’s probably out drinking.” If left to Donna, she would describe her mother as a screw-up. Her mom had been great, until Donna turned six. That was the year her dad had been killed.

He’d been gunned down for no reason on his way home from some fancy hotel, where he worked as a doorman. The police had ruled his death as a homicide, but they didn’t have a suspect. That was almost ten years ago. Donna still had no idea why any person would want her dad dead. He had been kind, loving, and innocent. He would help any person, and would literally give the shirt off his back to someone in need. He had done that, actually, for a homeless man they encountered while on vacation.

A few weeks after her dad had died; Christina Marlie had turned to alcohol to release her grief. She would sleep all day and drink all night. A year or so after starting drinking, Christina turned to drugs to alleviate the pain she felt from missing her husband. She had only been clean from LSD and cocaine for two years. To the best of Donna’s knowledge, she still smoked marijuana. Her mother would hit her if she scored less than an A on a report, test, or homework. She seemed to have decided that once Donna was old enough, she would get a job and pay for Christina’s habits. Seeing her mom drunk and high had been horrible. Donna had learned the power of drugs at a very young age, and vowed never to resort to alcohol or drugs for any reason.

Donna bit her tongue, and began to chew on her cheek. That had been her way of avoiding tears for years, and it still worked.

“Donna, now is not the time for tears. We still have much to discuss.” Artemis’s voice was gentle but firm.

“Shut. Up.” Donna muttered fiercely. She clamped her hands over her ears. Stalking towards her room, Donna released her tongue and cheek and let the tears flow. She reached her door and yanked it open.

The bright pink and lime green paint was the last thing Donna wanted to see. Something black would have suited her mood much better. She began to make her way to her bed, where she intended to spend the rest of her day. She paused by her mirror, though, and glanced at her reflection. A tear dripped of her chin.

“I’m possessed.”