Free The Star Dwellers by David Estes Page A

release
     her.
    It doesn’t.
    Tawni leaps on top of me, grapples with my
     outstretched arms, tries to get the tips of her fingers into my
     eyes. She is screaming at me, shouting horrible things,
     obscenities, things I’ve never heard come from her mouth.
     Disgusting, vile things.
    I try to remember that she’s hallucinating,
     but she’s trying to hurt me, and I have to defend myself. When she
     tries to hit me again, I grab one of her hands and get it under
     control. “You’re hallucinating, Tawni, get off me!” I cry, but she
     doesn’t listen, just keeps fighting with me.
    A knife flashes, shiny and deadly. I can
     barely make it out in the dim light provided by our flashlights,
     which we have cast aside haphazardly during our fight. Where did
     she get a knife from? Why would she even have a knife? Tawni is the
     least violent person I know—more prone to run or hide than fight
     back. And yet she has a knife—and is trying to cut me open.
    I grab the wrist of the hand with the knife
     and try to force it away from me. But Tawni has somehow become
     stronger from the Flu, gaining superhuman strength. The knife moves
     closer to my chest. She’s going to kill me. I have no choice.
    I close my other hand around her neck. The
     Flu has weakened me beyond recognition, but I use every last ounce
     of energy to squeeze my fingers shut, hoping to get her to drop the
     knife. The feeling is sickening. Horrifying. Knowing that you are
     literally squeezing the life out of someone. But I don’t stop,
     because Tawni doesn’t stop. It’s weird. Although she’s being choked
     to death—that much I can tell by the wretched gurgling sounds she’s
     making—she won’t drop the knife. It’s like killing me is more
     important than her own life.
    So this is how it ends for us? With friends
     killing each other?
    Her lips are moving, trying to tell me
     something, but I can’t understand her. Is it a trick or should I
     relax my grip? I’m afraid if I do she’ll cut me to ribbons. “Ha…”
     she chokes out.
    Her face is turning blue. I loosen my grip
     slightly. “What?” I ask. The knife is so close to my skin, inching
     closer, but I have to know what Tawni is trying to say.
    “You’re…you’re hal...luc…in…ating,” she
     breathes.
    Huh? I’m hallucinating? She’s
     the one with the knife, the one trying to kill me. The cold steel
     pricks my skin, just below my neck. It doesn’t hurt, doesn’t bleed.
     I try to consider for just one moment that I might be the one
     having a waking nightmare. As soon as I do, the knife disappears.
     My world spins upside down and I am on top of Tawni, rather than
     the other way around.
    I’m trying to kill her.
    I’m hallucinating.
    My body shakes and I wrench my hand from
     Tawni’s neck. Twisting to the side, I throw myself against the hard
     rock, panting heavily.
    Next to me I can hear Tawni gasping for
     breath, half-gagging.
    I did it to her.
    I spit once more and desperately wish for
     water. I’d even take a hallucination of water—they are so real,
     after all.
    I turn back to Tawni, who looks like she
     might throw up, her head between her knees, her matted hair clumped
     around her face, which has no color in it. She’s not gagging
     anymore, but her breathing is ragged and forced.
    I did it to her.
    The fact that the Flu caused me to do it
     provides no solace. I still tried to kill my own friend, my only
     friend, and I hate myself for it. I hate myself even more when I
     pull Tawni’s hair away from her face so I can look at her, and she
     visibly twitches, pulls away sharply. She’s afraid of me. She
     should be. I’m dangerous. Lethal. I’ve killed before and I can do
     it again, even if I don’t want to.
    Her neck is marked with red stripes where my
     fingers gripped her skin and I frown as I look at them. They will
     surely bruise, reminding me of my sins for the next few weeks. If
     we make it that long.
    “Tawni,