Friday 22 October
I could not completely shake the feelings of nausea and the dull ache in
my neck and shoulder as I walked along the street and I was certainly not in
the right frame of mind to make my apologies to Leonard, so I abandoned my
journey to Elmfield House and returned home. When I arrived back at the flat I
found Alex busily packing his bags and, as I stood in the bedroom door watching
him stuff his clothes and belongings into his rucksack, I was possessed by a
liberating sense of indifference. I no longer wanted to fight to keep us
together. I really didn't give a damn.
“I’ll need your keys if
you’re leaving.”
Alex stopped emptying the
drawers and answered sharply, “babe, I’m not in the mood for an
argument..."
“Who’s arguing?” I countered.
“I can see it in your face…”
I sighed. “You just don’t
understand, do you?”
“Don’t even try and make
excuses…” he replied as he zipped up his bag.
“Then don’t be such a f*****g
idiot.”
There it was again. The uncharacteristically
aggressive lack of control over myself. I had never felt so unashamedly self-confident
and deliberately provocative in my entire life. Alex threw his bag down onto
the floor upon hearing my insulting comment and he turned to face me with his
fists gripped tightly either side of him. We came toe to toe, staring
threateningly into each other’s eyes.
“I’m sorry…what?” he asked,
cocking his ear towards me.
“I said…don’t be such a f *****g
idiot.” This time I said it with a grin.
As I stared deeply into Alex’s eyes I felt my cheeks flush and my stomach begin to churn violently - all perfectly normal reactions in such an emotionally charged situation - but I also felt myself bristle defensively against an unfamiliar and extremely menacing air that was building in the room. Maybe it was the close proximity between us or it was a trick of the light but Alex’s face looked different somehow and there was a venomous malice in his words and demeanour that was completely unlike him. He looked at me with pure contempt as though he had no shred of respect for me whatsoever. This is not Alex standing before me, I thought, but a complete stranger.
Realising that I was in
serious danger, I slowly stepped away from him for fear that any sudden movement
might trigger a violent reaction, however as desperately as I tried to retreat
from him I found myself equally compelled towards him. Something wicked was
stirring inside me that wanted to provoke him and to deliberately spark a confrontation
and it was driven by the same swell of aggression that I experience when my
body is preparing to counter Luke’s advances, only this time Luke was not there
to quell it and before I knew it the fire had consumed me to the point that I
was rapidly losing control of my restraint.
I was not entirely aware of
the combination of words and images that whipped through my mind and came
spilling out of my mouth at that pinnacle point of my rage. Many of the visions
I recognised as diagrams and words from The
Omega Course but they were interspersed with flashbacks to my many conversations
with Luke and my ordeal in the church only an hour or so earlier. And
underpinning each of my words was an unshakable belief that every word that I
spoke and every demand that I made would instantly come to fruition. I knew
this with absolute certainty and without question.
As I spoke I felt an intense
swell of emotions building up inside me and I began shaking uncontrollably and
then, when the pressure inside my chest had reached an almost unbearable point,
a surge of adrenalin rushed up my legs and filled my stomach and an explosion of
energy burst outwards from the centre of my chest. I let out a loud and
strangled cry and the power of the release knocked me off my feet and flung me into
a sprawling heap on the floor, clearing everything off a nearby shelf in the
process and smashing one of my framed pictures into pieces. No sooner had I hit the floor when I heard
Alex cry out and I saw him recoil violently to the side as though someone had slapped
him hard across the face. I shouted his name and watched as he staggered away
from me and fell backwards onto the bed, clutching at his chest, gasping
desperately for air and making the most horrific gurgling noises. I dragged
myself to my feet and called
his name repeatedly from the corner of the room, but he was unable to answer. His
breathing seemed to regulate and he was quiet for a moment, but then he let out
the loudest scream that I have ever heard and he began writhing in pain and
wailing like an injured animal, rolling onto his side and bringing his knees tightly
up to his chest, all the while shrieking hysterically and staring straight at
me, his eyes filled with terror. Then he took a sudden, sharp intake of breath
and fell silent, his eyes closed and he rolled limply onto his back. I was
shaking violently (and I tremble even now when recalling the sight of him) but
as I stepped towards the bed I was relieved to see that he was still breathing
and he had simply passed out. Nevertheless I broke down into floods of tears,
partly due to the sight of him passed out on the bed and partly because our
confrontation had frightened me beyond belief.
I was shaking from head to
foot and my body felt unnaturally heavy as though every last drop of energy had
been wrung out of my limbs but, although I desperately wanted to lie down on
the floor and fall asleep, I realised that I needed to get away from the flat
as soon as possible. I can’t explain why, I just sensed that I wasn’t alone,
like there was someone else - or even several people - in the flat with me. I grabbed
my keys from the table in the hallway and ran out of the front door, but I had
no idea where I was heading. To the church? To the university? To Elmfield
House? I knew that I had to make a quick decision. But it was not just an
escape that I needed; more importantly, I needed answers. I needed to know what
was happening to me.
I decided to go to Amber’s apartment
because, although I could not tell her what had happened and she could do little
to help me, she could at least provide a safe haven for a short while and Alex
would not find me there. My heart was pounding and my eyes were watering as I
ran along the street, but I tried desperately to maintain my composure and
began busily inventing an excuse to explain why I had arrived at Amber’s apartment
unannounced: a typical argument scenario would suffice to gain her sympathy -
Alex and I had argued and he had attempted to hit me and so I hit him back in
defence. I would ask to stay with her for a while and return to the flat later when
I had fully recovered. It was as simple as that. Tears were streaming down my
cheeks as I ran along the street, but as I replayed the scene that I had witnessed
my tears of horror became tears of joy. Had I really done that to Alex? Or had someone
or something else done it on my behalf? Was this proof that my demands in the
church earlier that morning had been met? Maybe I am more powerful than I had
imagined. Maybe the gods do listen to me after all. Luke would be proud.
So here I am in the familiar surroundings of Amber’s spare room, looking
like a complete wreck and hiding like a scared little girl. I have spent many a
hung-over morning recovering in this room after one of my drunken nights out
with Amber and it certainly feels more like home than my own flat right now. These
last few days have been the most emotionally tumultuous days of my life and I
feel like I am living in a dream right now. Nothing seems real. On the one hand
I am frightened to the very core of my being and I want to hide away in this
room forever, but on the other hand I feel by far the most confident and
empowered that I have felt in a long time. I have also had the best undisturbed
sleep in months over these past two nights and there have been no terrifying visions,
no nightmares and no nightly visitors that I have grown so accustomed to. I
hope that I have finally found peace. But this is my last night here as I will
return to the flat in the morning to confront Alex. I'm not sure what to expect
when I see him, but I've had plenty of time to calm down, think rationally
about what has happened and formulate a series of credible excuses to account
for what took place between us.
