Chapter 50: Birthday Wishes And Secrets
"How do I look?"
"Like death!" Heather replied without missing a beat.
I stared at myself in the mirror and realized my face looked foreign even to myself. No amount of makeup could hide how I truly felt underneath. Heather had applied kohl around my eyes to give the illusion of life but that did nothing to hide the hollowness within them. My lips were painted deep crimson, matching the color of the blood that soak the bandage beneath the dress I wore. My hair which was my source of pride, lay limp and lifeless despite the meticulous curls.
The dress I wore was a crimson one that flowed all the way down to my waist. I chose it because it would blend perfectly well with my blood should the stitches reopen. My dress combined functionality with sophisticated form while remaining deceptive to the eye.
"You know you could stay right? Besides, I honestly do not think you are fit for this party. You haven’t even anything all day, you feel nauseous most of the time and I think that has nothing to do with the pain. I don’t know what I’m saying right now but can you not just go?" Heather asked me her voice trembling with each words she spoke. "No one would fault you if you do not show up." She quickly added, hoping to convince me.
"And what excuse do I give for missing my husband’s birthday celebration?" I retorted, my voice wary.
I had missed all the day activities, coming up with one excuse or another doing everything I could to stop people from finding out that I was lying in a pool of my own blood. I would have loved to miss tonight except that I couldn’t. Even though Reagan and I weren’t on good terms. I couldn’t miss his birthday celebration, as his wife I had to be there, even though my whole body protested that I stay in.
I had never missed the magic medicine Madam Heidi always gives me, tears of a mermaid. I had used the last one up completely, so now I had to do it the old fashioned way and suffer through stitches and the pain that comes with it.
I heard something like a sniffle and I looked up only to see Heather crying. My gaze met her misty eyes through the mirror. "Why are you crying?"
Heather sniffed as she wiped away her tears, "I’m so sorry mi’lady." She apologized, her voice wobbly, "I can’t help but think this is my fault. If only I hadn’t asked you to do any of these, if only I had waited for help just like you had said, if only."
"They would be dead." I responded and Heather’s eyes widened with confusion, "If we had done any of those things, those people would be dead in their cells or become killers just for their own survivals, so don’t you dare blame Heather." I finished as I turned to look at her.