Feral Hearts: Luna Rising

“Jump! Jump! Jump,” they chanted in unison, their voices echoing off the pool deck like a haunting mantra. Madison, the team captain, led the chant with a sinister grin, reveling in Kimberly’s aquaphobia and distress.

Even her mind turned against her, whispering cruel truths to her; “You can't swim, Kimberly. You're a weakling! They will laugh at you. You'll drown!” Her eyes widened, her heart throbbing wickedly against her chest, her grip on the pool railing tightening.

Gripped by anxiety, she slowly stepped away from the pool’s edge, her eyes frantically scanning the dim-lit hall in desperation. That's when she saw it; a bizarre figure lurking at the far end of the pool hall.

Even without her glasses, she could sense its piercing gaze cut through the shadows, boring into her with an unblinking stare. 

Kimberly froze, and her panic intensified, paralyzing her with terror. Just then, Madison blurted “Chicken!” and the hall erupted with laughter from her classmates. 

Overwhelmed with emotional distress, she covered her ears to block out their jeering, but it was too late. The mockery had become a deafening echo triggering her reflex epilepsy. She fell to the ground and began convulsing uncontrollably.

The pool hall fell silent, with her classmates frozen in confusion. Suddenly, the Coach burst into the hall, shouting Kimberly's name as she rushed to her trembling body.

“We need to get her to the sick bay!” she yelled as she gently but firmly lifted Kimberly's body.

“What's wrong with her?” one student asked.

Madison scorned, “She's faking it, trust me.” 

“No! She's having a seizure!” another student cried out, rushing out of the pool, with concern etched on her face.

“Or, she's just seeking attention!” Madison, being the regular insensitive bully that she was, preferred not to take her seriously.

The coach’s face darkened. She turned to Madison, “You're relieved of your position as team captain, effective immediately!” 

Another public seizure, another furious mother. Her formidable mother, Rebecca Silversmith, had signed her up for swimming classes, in an attempt to get rid of her aquaphobia, because she only saw it as a sign of weakness. 

However, Kimberly had defiantly stopped taking her medication, despite knowing the risks, simply because she hated them. But she also did it to spite her mother. For her mother, Kimberly's public seizures merely reflected her as a poor parent who raised a child with fragile health.  

Kimberly had her back against Doctor Miranda, her family doctor, who was documenting her health status and medications on her medical chart.

“Don't worry, Your brothers will be here to take you home shortly,” she heard Dr. Miranda say in a warm tone. 

“My mother couldn't come?” Kimberly asked softly. Not that she expected otherwise, she knew her mother would rather not miss her so-called business meetings than come pick her up from the hospital. 

“No Kim, She sent your brothers instead.” Dr. Miranda replied.

Just then, the ward door opened, and the Silversmith's twin brothers, Clark and Aaron, walked in, ridding the ward of its antiseptic hospital smell, and replacing it with their delicious cologne.

“Hello, Dr. Miranda,” Clark, the elder twin, greeted with his signature charming smile. He walked up to face Kimberly, “hello, princess,” he said, beaming at her. He was always the outgoing and affectionate one, and also Kimberly's favorite.

Aaron, the younger twin, simply nodded curtly at Doctor Miranda and stood at the door with his hands in his pockets, his broad shoulders slightly hunched expressing his stoic and antisocial nature.

Meanwhile, Dr. Miranda’s face flushed with a subtle blush as she heard Clark's pretty voice say her name, but she brushed it off, maintaining her professional composure. Unlike Kimberly, who was unfazed by the presence of her brothers, her eyes gloomy with tears. 

“What's happened? What triggered her episodes this time,” Clark asked, his tone deep but laced with concern.

“Emotional distress,” Dr. Miranda responded calmly.

“But that had never happened,” Clark said, puzzled. 

“Yes I am aware, this is new,” replied Dr. Miranda.

“Kimberly's reflex epileptic syndrome has now progressed to multisensory epilepsy. By that, I mean reflex epilepsy with multiple triggers. Emotional distress is just one of her multiple triggers, including high-pitched sounds, flashing lights, and even panic attacks. She now has heightened sensitivity to stimuli that previously didn't trigger her seizures.” Dr. Miranda explained, in a calm, professional, and empathetic tone.

Clark exhaled heavily, “Isn't there a permanent cure for it? There has to be something,” he asked, his tone low and somber.

“The only way of managing and treating it remains decreasing her exposure to the triggers and maintaining consistency in taking her medications,” Dr. Miranda knew saying so wasn't helping.

“Surgery is also an option, but then there's no guarantee that it would cure it permanently,” She added, still not helping. 

“I have prescribed additional drugs for her. I'll have the nurse get them for you before you leave,” said Dr. Miranda, then turned toward Kimberly. “Kim, if you don't take your medications seriously, your condition could progress to even more severe forms. You have to keep taking them so you can get better and have control over your episodes, okay?” 

Kimberly, who had her back against her, did nothing but breathe in response. Her face scrunched with distaste as the thought of taking more medications irked her. In fact, the whole situation irked her.

Kimberly was exhausted from the constant medications, her difficult mother and her sky-high expectations, her insecurities and incapabilities, she hated it all. She began to sob quietly.

“Well, that's all. I’ll have to leave now to go attend to other patients,” said Dr. Miranda.

After she left the room, Kimberly turned around to face the ceiling, her eyes still gloomy with tears. “Could my life be any more perfect,” she said sarcastically, her voice crackling with emotions.

Aaron finally came closer, reaching out for her hand. His voice, calm and soothing, he said, “It's nothing you can't get through Kim, we got you.”

“If Mother were here, she'd rub it in about how much of a weakling I keep becoming” Kimberly mumbled in between sobs.

“Mother’s opinion means nothing,” Clark smirked, “and she's wrong. You are strong Kimberly, and we all know it, isn't that why we celebrate each of your episodes?” Clark tried to make her feel better.

“Speaking of which, I have a surprise place for us to go celebrate your 61st episode,” he added, his tone cheerful, in an attempt to brighten her mood. It worked. Kimberly forced a smile.

“Okayyy, so where are we going?” Her voice was suddenly giddy with excitement as she wiped her cheeks.

“It's called a surprise for a reason,” Clark teased.

“Fine! Let me quickly dress up, I'll meet you guys outside,” Kimberly said, standing up from the bed to go change out of her hospital gown in the bathroom.

“Okay, lady,” Clark teased again, chuckling. They both left her to get dressed.

After a 20-minute wait, Kimberly still hadn't come out of her ward.

“She's taking too long,” Aaron said and glanced at his watch.

Clark concurred and knocked gently on the door. "Kim, aren't you done yet?” he asked, but he got no response.

Opening the door, he walked into the room, calling out her name.“Kim? You good?” He began to feel uneasy.

“Kimberly!” He called out again and when there was no response, he rushed into the bathroom.

He found it empty with the windows wide open, and the curtain billowing in the wind.

“Aaron!” Clark yelled, his tone laced with urgency. 

Aaron burst into the bathroom, his eyes scanning the space. 

“She's gone,” Clark stated, as fear and worry enveloped him.