Leona Charles: Dying

I think that I may be dying. I feel weaker by the day. The sight of food makes me feel sick. I can't
remember the last time I slept. She surrounds me with a cold air.

It has to be showing. I feel like a dark, terrifying shadow as I walk to work every day. Locals cross the road when they see me heading in their direction. Even the teachers in school try to avoid me. Holly and William suggested I see a doctor. Holly even suggested I come to stay with her for a while. She thinks I am getting caught up in the research, that I'm going to deep. I want to tell her the truth, so badly. But there's nowhere safe. Even the headteacher avoids me. She has cancelled assembly for the last two weeks. The number of children at the school is dwindling. Parents don't want their children around me, and I don't blame them. My class is down to just eight pupils, not that my teaching is great.

I stand at the white board, writing out sums, and She is hanging over me. I wonder if the children can see her. I notice that they are becoming pale, their rosy cheeks gone, dark circles under their eyes. But were they always like that? Is it just what happens here. I can't let her hurt anyone else.

I beg her not to take any of the children, but she just laughs. I am trying to fight her. Even though I don't want to, I am forcing myself to eat every day. Sometimes I'm sick afterwards, and it is because of her. Even if sleep won't come, I lie in bed every night, closing my eyes and trying to think of good things. I enjoy the happy memories with Mum, our little home, our holidays, birthdays. I hold onto them as tight as I can. I won't let her take them away, even as she screams in my ears that Mum hated me.

I call out to Geraldine, in my head, and I hope that somehow she'll hear me. I thought that I had been successful today, when I heard the knock at my door. I rushed down the hall to open it.

She whispered in my ear as I reached for the door handle, “Remember what I said.”

I opened the door to see Chris standing there, still in his work clothes, the look of concern clear on his face.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

I awaited her to scream a loud protest to me, but there was nothing, as I nodded, stepping aside to let Chris into the flat. I looked around at the piles of washing, and the layer of dust on my furniture, wondering what he was thinking.

He sat down on the edge of the couch, looking uncomfortable. “I met your friend today, from the school?”

“Holly?” I asked.

He nodded, and was silent again. “Look, it's none of my business, but you really don't look well. She said it too.”

“I'm fine!” I snapped. “Just tired.”

Chris shook his head dismissively. “It's something else. Is someone hurting you?”

I heard her cackle in my ear. She knew I wouldn't say.

“No,” I replied. He couldn't help me. “I think you should go.”

“Leona, I just...”

I shook my head as he stood up and I lead him to the door. As he stepped outside, he gave me one last look. “Remember I'm just upstairs.”

I forced a smile and thanked him, as I closed the door, locking myself inside.

She is feeling smug. She thinks that she has beat me, that it's only a matter of time before I am dead with her. I won't let it happen.