It had been four days since the start of Molly’s experimental treatment and her health had been rapidly declining since. Her body temperature was higher than it had ever been, she had lost even more of her body strength and her speech had slowed dramatically, as if she was too tired to keep up with her normally excited and curious personality. Not only that but she had slept more in the last few days than she had in weeks, even managing to sleep through the nightmares, as if she was trapped inside the terrors of her own mind.
Despite all this she hadn’t seen Doctor William Witherbark since his visit, and the rude and unpleasant elven doctor at the medical centre had practically just told her to hang in there as there was nothing they could do at this very moment. Apparently Doctor Witherbark had fallen ill shortly after his visit and was on leave as a result. None of the other doctors had had the guts to even come over to look over Molly’s condition, and most of them avoided Erica like the plague when she angrily burst through the doors of the medical centre.
She had also not heard the strange voice since the starlit night on the hill either, but now she was actually properly considering the weight of its words. Perhaps it wasn’t just her imagination, or her mind losing its grasp on reality, but something or someone trying to warn her about the events that had taken place over the last few days. Had the doctors lied to her? If so then about what? And why? Part of her was infuriated over how she had not taken its words more seriously, yet another part struggled to blame herself as the voice had appeared as something that only existed in her mind, something imaginary, or at least something that only she could hear.
As her life became more stressful, the blackouts she occasionally faced had become much more frequent. The exhaustion was overwhelming to the point where Erica couldn’t keep up anymore, and every single fibre of her being was begging for a moment to rest. Something Erica couldn’t afford to give herself. As a result work was becoming unbearable and she had found herself snapping at rude or inappropriate guests, as she slowly became less able to remain her normally composed self. She took a deep breath before opening the door to the Drunken Duckling, where she had worked since she was 13. Inside she found her fellow waiters and waitresses were cleaning up in preparation for when they opened at noon, and as usual they shot her dirty looks and kept their distance. She headed to the bar where she grabbed a wet piece of cloth to help wipe down the tables, and the entire time her colleagues took detours to keep their distance. Normally it wouldn’t bother her, she was used to the way they treated her, but in the last few days she had begun finding it annoying again. Like an itch that refused to go away, or a scab she had to remind herself not to pick at.
Behind her she heard a door open as a younger waitress named Monica walked out of the storage room in the back. She didn’t know much about the girl, mainly since Monica had avoided Erica when she had tried to introduce herself, though it was easy to tell that she was the sort of woman who enjoyed the attention of men, or perhaps just attention in general. It wasn’t uncommon to find her in the lap of drunken customers, and Erica couldn’t help but roll her eyes each time it happened. “Mr. Steele wants you in his office.” Monica said coldly as she walked past Erica, her wavy red hair swaying behind her as she strutted forward.
“What does he want?” Erica asked carefully with a gentle sigh slipping her lips. She wasn’t up for a meeting with the man currently, as her mind had suffered another sleepless night worrying about Molly.
“Ask him yourself.” The woman responded without looking back as she swiftly made her way towards the kitchen.
Erica slowly followed, as she had to pass through the kitchen to get into the back where Mr. Steele’s office could be found. Once she made it into the kitchen she watched Monica grab a knife off its rack, as she threw Erica a look that told her to stay away. Monica then slammed the knife into the innocent carrot on the cutting board before her, which she then began chopping into small pieces to later garnish the beer-basted duck which was the tavern's signature dish. With heavy steps Erica turned her back to the woman and knocked on the door at the back of the kitchen, a deep voice answering her from the other side. “Come in.”
She opened the door and carefully closed it behind her, silently taking a deep breath before turning to face the man sitting by the lone desk in the room. Theodore Steele was a rather short man, with a muscular stature accompanied with a mighty beer gut. His light brown hair and beard had started greying, and his dull, green eyes looked Erica over as disappointment riddled his face. “I heard you were causing trouble again.” He said with a deep sigh.
“Are you referring to yesterday?” Erica asked as her entire body suddenly felt much heavier than usual. She wasn’t proud of how she had lost her composure the way before, yet part of her was happy she had defended the little remaining dignity she had.
“Mhm… would you care to explain yourself?” The man asked sternly as he leaned back in his chair.
“There is nothing to explain, I asked a rude customer to leave.”
“After you purposefully threw a glass of wine at him…” Mr. Steele pointed out with a sigh, his voice full of disappointment.
“The man grabbed my ass and told me I’d make a good wife if I didn’t have a cursed womb…” Erica deflected, though she knew it wasn’t going to work on him as the man firmly believed that ‘the customer was always right’. She held back a sigh as she knew the cost of the man’s clothes would be coming out of her salary.
“He was drunk and I had to pay to have his clothes washed and replace the glass you broke.” Mr. Steele said and crossed his arms.
Erica knew there was nothing she could say, it was a dumb move on her part, yet she couldn’t hold herself back as the stress had boiled over. “I’m sorry… it won’t happen again.” Was all she could muster to break the silence.
“Listen Erica, this can’t continue.” The man said with a deep sigh. “You are costing me more money than you are making me, and while I sympathise with your situation, I also have a family to feed… People are scared, they fear not just your daughter’s illness but also your temperament. I kept you around because I wanted to help, but you are actively scaring away customers and causing more fuss than I have the energy to handle. I can’t have you working for me anymore.”
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Erica felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. For what felt like forever she couldn’t speak as her mind went blank. She couldn’t let this happen, she needed this job… not just for her own sake, but for Molly’s. “P-Please don’t do this… I’ve worked here for 16 years and if I’m late with my rent again I’ll lose my home.” She pleaded as the words struggled to leave her lips, her entire body felt as though it was losing strength and she felt as though her legs were giving up.
“I’m sorry, but I am going to have to let you go…” He said, followed by something Erica couldn’t hear. Every single part of her body felt as though it was shutting down, starting with her brain. An overwhelming, strangling sensation came over her, as if someone had wrapped their hands around her throat. She couldn’t breathe, yet there was nothing clogging her airways other than her own paralysing thoughts. Everything was silent, yet at the same time she could hear herself screaming even though her mouth was closed. Yet somewhere in her mind, mixed in with her own screaming was a voice that she couldn’t distinguish what it was saying. What felt like several minutes passed in seconds, as the voice of the man before her pulled her back to reality. “-I’ll count your hours this month and have your last salary delivered to your home, but for now I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
Without saying a word Erica stumbled out the room, thoughts refused to formulate in her mind and the entire tavern felt like an ocean she was drowning in. She wanted to run, yet even the air around her felt like an impossible weight to lift. As if she was looking in a mirror, she could see herself in the streets with her daughter’s cold, lifeless corpse in her arms. Starved, in ragged clothes and begging for the kindness of strangers that feared her.
She got mixed looks thrown at her as she stumbled through the tavern, yet their faces appeared smudged, as if someone had taken a piece of cloth and rubbed it across the wet paint of a portrait. Everything around her seemed like a blur, every sound, scent and sensation drowned out by the pained screams inside her own mind. After storming out of her old workplace she felt lost, as if she had nowhere to go, yet her body moved on its own. Somehow guiding her into an alleyway where her legs finally gave in. While she sat there, leaned against the wall of a stranger’s home, she couldn’t help but cry. Why? Why was all this happening? Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. She didn’t want to give up yet she had no idea what to do next, as if all her options were exhausted.
“What do I do?” She asked the cold, empty air around her while hiding her face in her hands. Her voice trembled as the words struggled to leave her lips. Part of her hoped the voice she had heard would answer her and show her the path forward, because never in her life had she felt this powerless and lost.
As she moved her hands to look up at the sky above her, she realised that the world had lost its colour, as if reality around her was fading away. Around her the scenery changed and she found herself on the floor of Molly’s bedroom instead of the dusty alleyway, with the colours around her slowly returning. “Mommy… it hurts...” She heard her daughter groan weakly and her motherly instincts told her body to stand yet she couldn’t. “It hurts… mommy, I’m scared.” Molly continued as Erica put her hand against the wall behind her to try and force herself to her feet.
“She needs you.” The deep resonant voice echoed throughout her mind as she managed to pull herself up by grabbing on what seemed to be a small, invisible ledge behind her. Yet when she turned back to face Molly she was back in the alleyway, and the ledge she had used to pull herself up turned out to be a brick on the house wall behind her. With newfound strength she ran home, throwing the door open without bothering to lock it behind her and made her way to Molly’s room.
“Molly?” She asked as she entered the room, yet no one answered. Her daughter’s favourite stuffed bear laid on the floor next to her bed, and her blankets covered every part of her body except for her right arm which dangled off the side of the bed. With careful steps she approached the bedside and moved the blankets, only to find her daughter pale and motionless, her normally cheerful eyes now dull and lifeless. She fell to her knees as the little remaining strength she had left her body, with the sight of Molly’s pained, tear-stained face burning itself into her mind. She grabbed onto her daughter's body and wrapped herself around it in a tight hug, praying that it was all just a dream, yet Molly wouldn’t move. Erica felt as though she was going to pass out, and she didn’t even have the energy to scream. Tears streamed down her face but she couldn’t feel them, all she felt was the paralysing cold and emptiness that overwhelmed her.
“Now if I am to be honest, no matter what happens from here Molly dies.” She heard the familiar voice of an annoying elven doctor behind her, and as she turned around what she saw was not part of Molly’s bedroom, but a room she had never seen before. There around a large meeting table sat four people she had seen many times before, the doctor’s of Willowcreak. “I would suggest poisoning her. We can make it relatively painless and give her a few more days to live depending on which we choose, this way we can also suggest it to the Rivers family as an experimental treatment. Erica would have to sign a consent form for that as well, much to our benefit.” The elven woman continued in a casual manner which made Erica’s blood boil.
“Okay… who's going to do it?” The short woman then asked, casually agreeing to the elf’s suggestion.
“William of course.” The elf had quickly answered, almost as if to interrupt the others.
Erica grabbed hold of the nearby dresser and pulled herself to her feet. What was going on? What was the meaning of all this? She wasn’t sure if she was infuriated or saddened, perhaps she was not even sane anymore at this point. Though one thing was for sure, she felt betrayed, more so than she had ever felt before. Slowly with weak steps she stumbled closer to where the doctors were sitting, each step feeling like it could be her last, as her body was collapsing under the weight of her broken heart.
“Prepare something I can inject her with and I can get it done tomorrow.” William had responded and stood up before quickly heading for the room’s exit, walking straight through Erica as if he was some strange ethereal ghost. How was any of this possible? Did they purposefully plan out Molly’s death? Were they tired of trying to treat her? She wasn’t sure of how she could see these visions, though she couldn’t care less either way. All that mattered was if what she saw was the truth. As the words of the doctors echoed through her mind a rage began brewing within her, like water slowly coming to a boil. An intense heat graced her back, and it filled her with strength. Suddenly standing on her own two feet did not feel like an impossible task, as it burned away some of her exhaustion. It wasn’t the same soothing heat she had felt before, but one which fueled her anger and made her feel strong.
“They did this…” The deep resonant voice whispered as the scenery before her disappeared, like mist blown away by a strong wind. “They lied, schemed and took her innocent life. She could still have been saved.”