Whispering Suits

I blink open my eyes and I’m standing in the field again. This time, when I see the strange opaque wall, I remember Jonathan’s journal and feel certain that what I am looking at is The Veil. It seems to emit a strange noise, a low hum sound, almost like electricity is bubbling beneath the surface. This time, I place my hand firmly against it, and the strange figure on the other side does the same. I feel my lips move, but I can’t hear any sound escaping them. The figure responds, the sound is warped and twisted by The Veil, but I just about make out “Ind..izzz…Commm…zzz…Ba…..Kzzz.” When I wake up, my cheeks are wet. Was I crying in my sleep? I feel horrid, my throat is sore and my chest feels tight. I roll over, what time is it? Scratch that, what day is it? I try to sit up, but I can’t breathe. I manage to reach for the water on my bedside table, but drinking it causes me to cough and splutter. I feel like I’m coughing for ages before Gran bursts in. “Indigo, are you okay?” I shake my head, holding my throat. She helps me sit up and slowly drink more of the water. I manage to stop coughing, but my nose is running so I can’t help but sniffle as I look at her helplessly. “Sorry.” I manage to murmur. “I just woke up, but I feel like death. Is it still morning?” I ask, hopeful that I haven’t lost the day. Gran shakes her head. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but you’ve been asleep all morning. Both Dan and I tried to wake you, but it was clear you weren’t well so I said we should let you sleep. It’s nearly three pm dear.” Her voice is soft, gentle, but it hurts. I want mum, she isn’t mum. I try to throw the covers off, to stand up, but everything starts spinning. Gran gently but firmly pushes me back onto the bed. “Indigo…Indy, I know you might not like it but you are sick. You need rest. Please.” She looks so concerned, and I suppose I have no choice. I curl back up under the covers. “Ok” I murmur, my voice cracking slightly. Gran smiles softly, and brushes my hair off my face in an almost tender movement. “Good, now you stay here and I’ll bring up some soup for you. Okay. We need to get you on the mend”. She scurries off before I can really protest. After a little bit, I’m not sure how long, then Gran re-appears with a tray. I sit up so she can balance it on my lap. The bowl of soup has steam rising from it, but I can’t seem to smell anything. I try a spoonful, chicken and vegetable, it’s nice. She’s also brought a cup of water and what looks like a Lemsip. I slowly eat the soup, Gran sits on the edge of my bed, and it’s awkward but also kind of nice. I feel mean, I know she is trying her best to look after both Dan and I. I just wish mum was here, I realise just how dependent I was on her. And here I thought I was a grown up now I was nineteen. When I finish the soup, and the Lemsip, she takes the tray and I settle back into the bed. As she is leaving, I reach out and grab her trouser leg stopping her. “Thank you…is Dan ok?” I say, my voice raspy and strange. She smiles. “You’re welcome, and yes, Dan is fine. I think you’ve just been running yourself too hard. I know you haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve been going out into the cold nearly everyday, it’s no wonder you got ill. Tomorrow, if you’re feeling better, we can go into town and buy some new clothes. Till then, get some rest. I’ll be up to check on you in a bit.” I drift in and out of sleep, when I'm conscious all I can think about is needing to get up and make a plan for when I see Cyrus. When I'm asleep, I'm pulled back to that strange dream over and over again. I can't tell how long I'm out for, but when I finally wake up I'm filled with panic. I'm sure I've been in bed longer than a day, did I miss my deadline to meet Cyrus. I check my phone, and by sheer dumb luck it looks like today is the day of the meeting. I still feel a little worse for wear, but I can't risk missing this opportunity. I drag myself out of bed and shove on the first clean clothes I find, thanks to my cold I'm struggling to breathe so I make the sensitive choice to forgo my binder. I pick my least annoying sports-bra, a blue long sleeved shirt, and my black jeans. My boots are downstairs, that means I'll probably catch Gran's attention when I leave. Looking at my phone, I can see it's already eleven-thirty. I need to get moving, but everything still feels sluggish. I leave my hair as it is, it needs a brush and I don't like how hot the back of my neck feels when my hair is down, but doing anything with it will take too much energy. I take my time on the stairs, every step makes me want to go back upstairs to bed. But Faeries aren't known for their forgiving natures. If I don't show up, the next time I cross his path he might kill me, or worse. I sit on the bottom step and put my shoes on. I feel Gran’s shadow on me before I hear her approach. She sighs, and I can feel the worry in her tone. “Indigo Warren, what are you doing out of bed?” her voice cuts through me, and makes my head spin. But something inside me is telling me I have to make this meeting with Cyrus, or else commit myself to never understanding this blasted deck. I look up at Gran. “Hey Gran…I'm, I'm feeling much better”. I manage to talk without my voice cracking. She doesn't seem convinced. She tilts her head to the side, the same thing mum used to do right before telling me off. “Mhmm” she says “And I'm the next pope. You are going back to bed, young lady”. I grimace at that, and she softens slightly. “Please, Indy?” She says, her voice catching slightly on my nickname. I stand up, trying not to show I'm a little woozy from the sudden movement. “I have an appointment I have to go to, I'm sorry Gran. I promise to be home and back in bed asap, okay?” I say, my voice strangely steady. I push past her before she can respond, and rush out the door.