Chapter 19
Indy
Iwake up mid-panic attack. My breathing is ragged, and my heart is pounding so hard it almost hurts. Visions of dead bodies flood my thoughts, the feel of their blood on my skin making me scratchy.
My eyes dilate, and I realize I’m back in my tent. No blood. No Tommy. No Tini. And no Doctor. Just me and the distant thumps of someone playing music at their campsite.
I breathe out slowly, trying to calm my heartbeat. In…one, two, three…out, one, two, three. Hold it.. one, two, three. I tell myself as I focus on trying to calm down. A therapist told me about this method years ago, and I still find myself using it to this day.
After a few minutes, my heartbeat returns to normal, and I don’t feel lightheaded anymore. I look down and see that I still have my outfit on from last night. My body is still buzzing, but I ignore it as I make my way out of the tent and down to the porta-potties.
Making my way back after what feels like way-to-fucking-long standing outside the blue pee palace, I start to feel off…
Not in a bad way, but rather… lighter? Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Everything looks brighter, and the sun feels warmer.
Like the world is shifting into something even more beautiful.
It’s becoming more and more apparent every day.
I try to play back my memories from last night, but they’re too grainy, too far away. Flashes come and go, but I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. It’s like a fever dream.
Arriving at my campsite, I look over and notice that there’s movement or sounds coming from next door. Everyone is gone… probably an early day? Maybe they are in the showers.
Even if what I saw last night truly happened, where’s everyone else? The two other wooks, the other girls? They can’t really just be gone, right? That would mean… no, that can’t be right. There’s no way this can all be real. Right?
Shaking the thoughts of the unknown away, I try to turn my focus away. Only two more nights until this festival is over. And if there’s any chance of my figuring out anything, I’m going to have to go back to the root of it all. The Doctor’s tent.
I work quickly, pulling on my outfit for today. A black one-piece that shows off my stomach and legs, covered in gold stars and moons. The bell sleeves are giant, made of mesh fabric. Gold embellishments cover the sleeves, creating an almost ethereal look.
I pair it with a hood, half mask, and thigh-high stompy boots, turning me into some form of a witchy assassin.
At least my outfits are going according to plan.
Smudging some black eyeliner around my eyes and adding mascara to my lashes creates the perfect finishing touch. Simple, yet deadly.
I reach over and grab my fanny pack. It still has all my vapes in it and all the joints and drugs from the night prior.
Pulling out my nic vape, I take a deep breath, letting the cool smoke fill my lungs. My nerves calm slightly. I take another puff before throwing it back into the pack and heading toward the event.
Making a quick stop for a couple of slices of pizza and a refill of my Camelback, I continue walking right back into the Doctor’s lair.
I don’t know why I’m going back, honestly. Call it curiosity, call it stupidity. Call it whatever you want. All I know is I need to see The Doctor again. I know it’s not logical, but fuck, I need to be with him again.
And, maybe this time, I can leave with some answers.