Rattling, by Vicky Miller
It had been another restless night, worst than the last. Disturbed sleep intertwined with horrible, nightmare images and paranoia. Ana writhed in the sweat soaked sheets. She stretched out a hand across the bed to find she was alone. Jon’s side of the bed was cold. Nausea passed over her in waves, spreading its way up from the pit of her stomach and spiralling into a ball her throat. She scratched her nails across her swollen belly and let out a low groan.
As soon as Jon entered the room he pulled open the curtains and the harsh white light of early morning flooded in. Ana blinked hard, her eyes stinging from the sudden illumination, she screwed her face up.
“I’m sorry I had to leave you on your own.” Jon sat down on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling,” he asked stretching a hand out towards her clammy forehead.
“I’m fucking dying,” Ana screamed, “This is the worst pain ever.”
She squeezed her eyes shut as if to cry but she knew there were no tears left. Her depleted body could no longer produce even the most basic of human emotions.
“I can’t stand to see you like this,” Jon said stroking her hair.
Ana began to shake. She turned her face to him, her matted hair falling into her vacant eyes. He swept away the strands with his fingers.
“It…hurts,” she whispered.
Jon held her until her rattling subsided a little.
“Do you want a cigarette?” he asked as he lit one for himself.
“I do but it’s like I can’t breathe,” Ana replied weakly.
Jon took the cigarette from his mouth and placed it between Ana’s cracked lips. She sucked on it hard and then coughed. She couldn’t stop. As she gasped for air Jon embraced her, resting his chin on the top of her head he rubbed her back whispering “You’re okay, we’re gonna get through this.”
When Ana finally stopped coughing she collapsed down onto the bed, beads of sweat snaking their way down her forehead. She looked like a fucked up porcelain doll, her eyes round and glassy, cheeks flushed pink against her dull, grey skin.
“I’m freezing,” Ana whined as she began to gather the sheets up around her. Her whole body began to shake again, more violently this time.
Suddenly she lurched forward, gripping her stomach.
“I’m going to be sick.”
Jon pulled Ana out of the bed and carried her to the bathroom. As she coughed and choked over the porcelain bowl, he held her hair back and wiped her sticky forehead with the palm of his hand. When she had finished, Ana collapsed down onto the bathroom floor. The tiles felt cool against her skin and she stared up at the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
Jon picked Ana up from the floor and carried her the short distance back to the bedroom. Her head lolled against him and she muttered something he could not quite understand. As Ana slumped down on the bed, he covered her with the filthy sheets, tucking them in around her neck.
“I’m burning,” Ana moaned and she began to convulse again.
“That’s it,” Jon announced, “This is too much too soon.”
He pressed his warm body against her and held her tight until she stopped shaking and became a dead weight against him. He laid her back down on the bed gently then he picked up his jacket from the floor and pulled a small bag of white powder from the inside pocket.
“Shit,” Ana’s eyes grew wide, “I wondered what you were doing going out so early.”
“I’ll just give you a small one,” he said, leaning close to her and brushing her lips with his.
“But,” Ana propped herself up on her elbows, “what about the…” She trailed off and fixed her eyes on the belly which protruded from beneath her grey top. “It was you that said I should stop cos it was bad for our-”
“I know,” Jon cut in, stroking the bump beneath her shirt, “but this is too much for you to handle. You’re completely fucked. I didn’t know it would be this hard.” He smiled at her weakly. “I’ll just give you a bit. A little hit to get you through.”
“Okay. Yeah,” Ana replied. “It can’t be worse than all those aspirin and sleeping pills I had yesterday and they didn’t even take the pain away.” She exhaled loudly. “Maybe I should be cutting down instead of trying to stop all at once.”
Jon nodded and slid his hand into the bedside drawer.
“Thank you,” Ana smiled, “my saint,” her eyes rolled back in their sockets, “my sinner. My…sacrificial lamb,” she murmured as she slipped away into oblivion.
Later that day, Ana woke up in Jon’s arms. She pressed her lips to his and began to cover him in kisses. Jon opened his eyes and slowly roused from sleep. They began to kiss deeply. Jon moved so his face was above hers and he pressed his body close. As he slid his hand up her thigh his kisses ceased suddenly and he pulled away.
“What the fuck…?” Jon exclaimed, lifting the covers.
Thick, red blood dripped from his finger tips. Ana began to scream.