Mother of Darkwaters: Book one of the Vessel series (50 page)

   Getting on the road Jennifer is now walking is easy. But to get back off of it is entirely a different story. The further she walks down it, the tougher it will be to see its destructive intentions against her. It's just the way that particular road is designed. It feeds on the life force of what is good and pure within a person, and replaces it with darkness, decay, and rot. The worst part about this road is that the victim is blinded to the damage incurred. They cannot see until it is too late. Most people know this phenomenon as
rock bottom
. And Mandie doesn't want to see Jennifer hit it. If she does, then Jennifer's been on the road way too long. The damage will be done. And the road will have claimed another one for its trophy room – a life wasted.

   Rebecca, Caroline, and Tamara all walk out of West Hills High together. Tamara glances over to the parking lot and notices Mandie's truck is gone. She secretly scolds herself for hanging back to gossip over the latest news at school.

   “There's my mom,” Caroline announces while looking down the street.

   “Bye, love,” Rebecca answers, “Make sure that head quack gets your meds right.”

   “See you guys later,” Caroline nods while heading for her mom's car.

   “See ya,” Tamara speaks to Caroline's back.

   Caroline holds up her right hand over her head and waves.

   “We need to make some invites for everyone,” Rebecca explains while crossing the street with Tamara.

   “How many should we allow them to bring?”, the captain questions.

   “I don't have a clue, Becca,” Tamara answers with a tone that borders irritation, “I didn't even know about it until you told me.”

   “Grrr kitty,” Rebecca playfully chastises, “What's got you so high in the tree?”

  
beep-beep.

   Tamara disables the alarm to her Corvette as they near it. She stops by the door, inserts her key, and unlocks the driver's side door.

   “Me and Jason broke up today,” Tamara reveals her frustration while opening the door.

   “No, you two were good together. What happened?”

   “He said I was too aggressive and wanted me to change because he couldn't handle it anymore.”

   “I'm sorry, Tam,” Rebecca consoles. She puts her right hand on her hip and dramatizes a snippy attitude, “It's his loss. You're S.V.C. and he's just a basketball player.  You can have anyone you want.”

   Tamara halfheartedly smiles and slips into her car.

   “Thanks,” Tamara says while putting her key into the ignition, She starts the engine and lowers the convertible top down.

   “Need help with the invites?”, she changes the subject.

   “Nah,” Rebecca shakes her head. “I've got it. Besides, I know your parents. They're probably pacing the floors.”

   “Call me if you need anything,” Tamara leaves her offered help on the table.

   “We'll do,” Rebecca waves, “Chow.”

   “See ya,” Tamara puts her car in reverse as Rebecca starts walking off. She watches Rebecca turn around like she forgot something.

   “Tamara,” Rebecca calls out while heading back to the car.

   “Forget something?”, Tamara grins.

   “Did Jennifer talk to you?”, Rebecca questions as she flips her long blond hair over her right shoulder.

   “About what?”

   Rebecca looks around and then regains eye contact with Tamara.

   “The blood covenant. None of us can feel you anymore. And we feel drained.”

   “Drained?”

   “It's hard to explain. It feels like the end of a practice without the practice.”

   “No,” Tamara attempts to avoid the topic, “I don't feel drained.”

   “So you don't feel any different? You can feel the rest of us?”

   Tamara sighs. She is so not wanting to have this conversation right now.

   “It's complicated, Becca. Yes I feel that the bond is broken. And no, I didn't perform some ritual to break it. It just happened and I don't know how else to explain it.”

   “
What
happened?”, Rebecca corners her evasive friend.

   “Honestly, Becca – I'm not sure. One minute I was bonded and the next I wasn't. Maybe something went wrong with the spell.”

   Rebecca's blond brows rise questioningly. She decides to leave Tamara be.

   “I'll see if I can find something in the book about it,” Rebecca informs, “Don't worry about it. I'll figure it out.”

  Tamara grins uncomfortably, “Thanks.”

   “No problem,” Rebecca catches her friend's uncomfortable expression. She turns and heads for her car.

   “Good luck,” Tamara loudly calls out to her captain as she heads home with another mission. She watches Rebecca raise her hand up and wave like Caroline did earlier. Tamara backs up and pulls off of the student's parking lot into the street. She turns right. The thought of lying to Rebecca bothers her. But she isn't ready to explain the Mandie situation to her. After all, she's not even sure what
that
is yet.

   Is it love? Is it lust? Is it some morbid fighter thing? If it is love, then is it abusive in nature? And if it isn't abusive, then how should she define abuse? Or better yet, how is she to define abuse when it comes to Mandie? Until Mandie came along, Tamara would have defined a relationship of this magnitude as abusive and perverted. But now she isn't so sure.

   Mandie makes everything seem so normal. The only real awkward moment between them was when Mandie thought Tamara had a moment of regret. Tamara felt bad for her. Who wouldn't? But Mandie made her feel like the regret was the abusive part and not the beating. Not the bruises, cuts, slaps, whipping, or verbal assaults. But her brief feeling of regret for doing these things to her.

   Yes, Mandie makes it all seem normal. More importantly, Mandie makes Tamara feel normal for enjoying herself in this way. But is it
really
normal? Jason doesn't think so. Her parents will absolutely not think so. And the world in general will probably not approve.

   In addition to these concerns is the whole lesbian thing. Playful experimentation is one thing. It happens. No one cares. But a life choice is something completely different. And even though the world is making efforts to accept, there is still so much spitefulness and condemning judgments circling among whispered lips and eyes full of hate. Add to these the bonafide fact her parents are devout Presbyterians, then the whole idea of coming out is more than a little nerve wrecking – it's downright frightening. 

   Would her parents still accept her if she lived a life which conflicts with their religious beliefs? She would like to think so. But she has heard them speak about homosexuality. They just don't hate it, they loathe it with every fiber within them. Would they then, also, loathe the sight of her? The thought of her? Would she be responsible for bringing her family's name the ultimate disgrace among all of their peers?

   What about Mandie? What happens if Tamara decides to give the both of them an honest try, only to be dumped later?  How horrible would it be to target herself among her family, friends, and the student body as a lesbian, then come to find out Mandie is just experimenting and has decided against it? Decided against them? Decided against Tamara?

    Everyone knows life isn't fair. It can be more than cruel. And this applies to the heart. Can she really outweigh the value of the love she has for everyone she has ever known over one person she has just met? That kind of logic doesn't make any sense. Yes, she loves Mandie, at least on some level. So she won't deny that aspect of it. But sometimes love isn't always enough; especially, when the whole world stands against you.

   “I spoke to your mother about your medication,” the balding man explains, “She said you were having problems?”

   “It felt like my hand was being shocked. It freaked me out. And I've been feeling drained. I'm tired all of the time.”

   Dr. Evans writes on the pad within his lap. With his eyes still on his work, he continues his line of questioning.                                        

   “And you’re having nightmares again?”

   “Yes,” Caroline admits, “My dream guy ripped my chest open and tried to crawl inside of me.”

   The doctor stops writing. He looks upward without raising his head. Both of his brows are slightly lifted.

   “Your dream guy from the castle?”

   “Same one,” Caroline confirms. She watches her doctor tap the back side of his pen on the pad in his lap.

   “Okay,” Dr. Evans raises his head to more comfortably look upon his client, “I have to be honest with you. Your dosage wasn't very high to begin with. I think we should try you on something else. Give your old medication to your mother. Let her dispose of the prescription.”

   The doctor pauses before continuing, “As for your shock episode, I'm not certain why such a low dose of Valium would do that. There
are
instances where a part of your body might fall asleep and become tingly, but I assume you would know the difference.”

   “It wasn’t asleep.”

   “Something like that has more to do with bad blood flow than this type of medication,” Dr. Evans elaborates further, “And an athlete as young as you very rarely has blood flow issues.”

   “As a precaution, I'm going to prescribe a lab work up on you to rule out any physical abnormalities.” Dr. Evans sees the fear cross over his patient's eyes, “Don't worry, I personally don't believe there's any problem in that area. But it is part of my job to see you are cared for one-hundred percent.”

   When Caroline's expression seems to calm, Dr. Evans speaks again, “Some medications like Valium can make it tougher for you to wake up whenever you enter your r.e.m. cycle during sleep. This can cause some people to panic. Their consciousness is aware they are asleep, but doesn't have the ability to fully wake the body. This can cause a good dream to turn into a nasty nightmare fairly quickly. I wouldn't read too much into it. It's normal.”

   Dr. Evans looks down to his pad and begins writing again, “But as I said before, these things are usually found within patients taking higher doses of the medication. This is why we're going to eliminate it altogether for you. You just might be one of those people who have a very low tolerance to certain types of medications.”

   The doctor tears off a piece of small paper with the new prescription written on it. He hands it to Caroline, “Are there any more concerns you have?”

   “Not really,” Caroline answers his request, “But just to be clear about it, you think the shock is from my low tolerance of the medication?”

   “I do,” Dr. Evans confirms, “And the blood work is purely to rule out something unforeseen. You'll have to do some running on a treadmill while they check out your heart behavior. But other than that, there won't be much difference than a routine physical like you get in order to be approved for cheerleading.”

   Caroline nods her understanding. She stands and shakes her doctor's hand before heading towards the door. After opening it, Caroline turns and looks at her doctor across the room.

   “Thanks, Dr. Evans,” Caroline shows her appreciation by not calling him doc.

   “You're very welcome, Caroline,” Dr. Evans answers with a smile of appreciation of his own. He watches the girl turn and walk out – quietly closing the door behind herself as she exits into the hallway.

   “Is my baby girl going to live?”, Victoria greets her daughter as she enters her office. She watches the senior drop her backpack by the door before carelessly plopping down into one of the two chairs situated in front of her desk.

   “I guess. Got to get a physical on Monday.”

   She hands her mom the piece of paper with the prescription on it, “And he changed my meds.”

   Victoria reads the paper and smiles.

   “What's so funny?”, Caroline doesn't sound too amused.

   Victoria reaches down and grabs her purse. She opens it, searches within, and pulls out a bottle. She looks up and tosses the bottle to her daughter.

   “Prescription filled,” Victoria declares.

   Caroline catches the bottle and reads the label.

   “Tylenol P.M.?”, Caroline questions, “That's what T-pm means? Why didn't he just tell me instead of wasting paper like that?”

   “It's his way of telling me that he thinks you're going to be alright,” Victoria explains.

   She looks questioningly at her daughter, “Are you hungry?”

   “Starved,” Caroline admits.

    “Fast food or..”

   “Fast food,” Caroline interrupts her mother’s alternative.

   Victoria smiles, “I was hoping you'd say that. I've got the perfect place in mind.”

   “Hardees is your perfect place?”, Caroline questions her mother's usage of the term.

   “Two Frisco burgers, two large fries, one large Diet Coke, and one large Dr. Pepper,” the voice recalls Victoria's order through the speaker; “Will that be all?”

   “Yes,” Victoria conforms.

   “That will be fifteen dollars and forty-seven cents. Please pull around to the first window.”

   “Their cows from Italy or something?”

   Victoria chuckles, “No, but the bacon makes them well worth it.”

   “You make eating pork sound like I just learned how to ride a bike without training wheels,” Caroline teases her mom.

   Victoria tilts her head slightly, “I guess it kind of is. It
is
a pretty big mile-stone.”

   “Whatever,” Caroline feels weird about the virtual pat on the back. After all, it's just pork.

   “So?”, Victoria watches her daughter take her first bite into the burger while sitting at their dining room table.

   “Mmm-hmm,” Caroline nods. She chews and swallows, “It's good.”

   Victoria laughs, “I thought you might like it.” She quickly joins her daughter in an evening gorging of the Frisco variety. The doctor takes a healthy bite, chews, and then swallows.