Rosemary
Legacy Name: Martina

You wake up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth.

You had a dream last night, but you can't quite remember what it was. You feel a strange, sorrowful ache in your stomach. You wonder what you dreamt. Maybe it will come back to you soon.

You roll out of bed and look at the alarm clock.

6:47 AM? You must have overslept. Class starts in in less than thirty minutes. You'd better be off, or Sister Nicodema will have your hide.

Sister Nicodema would have your hide either way, though. She hates halflings, as she calls you. You're of the devil, according to Sister. Well, best not to make her hate you even more.

You sit in front of the mirror and do up your hair. Messy. You can't do better, you don't have time. It will have to do for now.

Pull on your uniform. It's wrinkly. Sister Elisa will have a cow. Oh well. Today's just not your day.

You catch one lass glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Those glassy eyes that are the devil's work smile back at you.

You didn't ask to be like this, did you, halfling? To see through devil's eyes?

As expected Sister Nicodema is not happy with your decision to come late to class. Sleeping late? No excuses.

You don't even try to mention your faulty alarm clock.

Today, the class' punishment is 10 Hail Marys after the bell rings for class dismissal.

Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee.

The class drones on. Your head is beginning to pound. Your mouth has gone dry again.

Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.

Pain radiates from your left temple to your right. Your mouth continues to move, but your eyes see only black. And then, your dream comes back to you.

Holy Mary Mother of God,

Elijah, the only other halfling in the class, is what you see. Behind him -- nothing. But on his face, a look of horror worse than many things you've seen. And, by god, have you seen horror.

pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death

Oh halfling, with those devil's eyes, what do you see? Elijah grasping at his throat, coughing. His face is contorted painfully, and he coughs up blood, deep red, noxious.

Amen.

He is going to die, you think.

Finally, the pain in your head subsides and the horrific image dissolves. You open your eyes and you can see once again, and this time, Elijah, your doomed acquaintance, is looking at you with concern.

You have to do what you can to save Elijah. Perhaps if you just warn him of what might happen, you can save him.

"Elijah," you say. "Hold on."

"What's wrong?" he asks, quizzically. "I saw you go blank during Hail Marys."

How should you warn him?

"Oh... it's nothing," you say. You curse yourself for making a scene. You really can't bring yourself to tell him everything in person.

"I just wanted to say, be safe. You know how cruel kids can be to people like us," you say. It's all bullshit, really. You're just covering your ass. But there's a grain of truth in there somewhere.

"I know," he says. "Thank you."

He looks at you meaningfully for a second, then turns away.

Suddenly he stops. You're afraid he might ask you about what you saw, but instead he turns around and calls, "See you in third period."

You wave. What a shame it is that you don't know him better, you think. Maybe in another life.

You watch him recede, then you frantically dig around in your bag for a notebook and tear out a page.

On the note, you write a quick warning. It's succinct, but it should get the point across without being too weird. Hopefully he'll take it seriously. You'll slip it in his bag during third period, in trig.

You praise yourself for getting the note into his bag safely. It was close - he almost turned and saw you, but you managed to slip it into the half-open small pocket nearest to you.

The last bell rings, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You're done for the day.

"Hey, Martina?" Elijah says.

"What's up?"

"I was wondering if you might like to go out sometime. J-just for food, I mean. Or to talk about, you know. Stuff. Halfling stuff."

He's rambling. You can see how nervous he is.

You smile at him toothily. "Yes, I'd love to."

Your heart is fluttering, but there are more important things on your mind than a halfling date.

You both get up and he chatters on about trig while you walk together towards the exit. You head to the buses, and he heads toward the street.

"Where are you going?" you ask.

"Oh, just to the library, across the street."

"Okay," you say. "Be safe."

He grins again and walks toward the crosswalk.

You stand by the buses, watching. The light turns green, and the bright white walking man displays. He begins to walk.

His backpack pocket is still open.

Suddenly, your note falls from his bag. Behind him, someone calls, "Hey, halfling, you're dropping shit everywhere."

He looks backward and sees the note in the street. An expression crosses his face - confusion? Hope? Maybe he knows it's from you. You begin to run forward, but he is impossibly far away.

He kneels down. All the other students cross past. The lights on the crosswalk indicator began blinking. 15. 14. 13.

Police sirens from afar.

What's the commotion? Time moves in slow motion for you, and you feel as if you're in a dream, wading through water.

A car speeds to the stop sign adjacent the crosswalk, the blaring police car not far behind. They do not stop. Instead, they keep going, and Elijah's body crumples in the middle of the crosswalk, kneeling down to reach your letter.

You run forward.

"Oh... it's nothing," you say. You curse yourself for making a scene. You really can't bring yourself to tell him everything in person.

"I just wanted to say, be safe. You know how cruel kids can be to people like us," you say. It's all bullshit, really. You're just covering your ass. But there's a grain of truth in there somewhere.

"I know," he says. "Thank you."

He looks at you meaningfully for a second, then turns away.

Suddenly he stops. You're afraid he might ask you about what you saw, but instead he turns around and calls, "See you in third period."

You wave. What a shame it is that you don't know him better, you think. Maybe in another life.

You watch him recede, then you frantically dig around in your bag for a notebook and tear out a page.

On the note, you write a quick warning. It's succinct, but it should get the point across without being too weird. Hopefully he'll take it seriously. You slip the note into his locker. After school, you'll make sure he gets it.

You watch from afar as Elijah nears his locker. He puts in the code and opens it, and the note falls out. He kneels to pick it up.

He reads it and stares at it quizzically. A frown crosses his face and he pauses. He looks around, but doesn't see you.

He crumples the note in his hand and walks to the trash can.

Father Correa, your Social Studies teacher, walks past Elijah, coughing into a napkin.

Both of them stop at the trash can at the same time. Elijah drops the note in; Father Correa drops the napkin in.

"Hey, Elijah, how's it going?" Father Correa asks.

"Oh, good, and you? How was your mission?" he replies.

"Mission was good. The Philippines was beautiful. I'm not great, though," Father Correa says. "Feeling really under the weather."

He coughs violently suddenly, then turns away from Elijah.

"Sorry," Father Correa says. "Should have brought a handkerchief."

Elijah is not in class today. Neither is Father Correa. You have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"Class," Sister Elisa starts sadly.

"You may have noticed that Father Correa is not here today. (?) In addition to the chapel collapsing last week Friday, we've had another tragedy. (?) I regret to inform you that over the weekend, Father Correa was admitted to Saint Margaret's, along with many other students."

The class begins to murmur.

"It appears there has been a tuberculosis outbreak. We must rely on God in this trying time."

Your stomach drops. You run out of class, with Sister Elisa calling you frantically.

-x-

The clerks at the hospital direct you to the room. 441A. Shouldn't you be in school? they ask. You have to see someone, you say. It's important. You run past them.

The elevator moves upward slowly, too slowly.

Your stomach is sinking. You feel ill.

The elevator dings for the fourth floor. You take a right, then walk past rooms, the sterile hallway seeming to stretch forever. 438. 439. 440. 441.

You enter the room. There are four curtains separating the room.

You peek through the first one. A.

"Elijah, I really have to talk to you outside," you say.

You both walk out of class together and you stop him outside the door.

"I have to tell you something," you say. "It's really important."

"What is it, Martina?" he says. "Is it something bad? I know you're a halfling like me. You see things, right? I've heard kids talk about you like they talk about me."

You feel a twang in your chest. Poor Elijah. He seems sensitive, sweet.

"Please be careful," you say. "I had a vision of you getting hurt." Don't you mean dying?

"Oh no," Elijah says. He looks at his feet and his hands go up to his chest. He pulls a necklace out of his shirt. A cross. He grasps it tightly.

"Is there any way to stop it?" he says.

"I'm not sure," you say, and you aren't. You haven't had a death vision before.

"Just be safe."

"Okay," he says. "I will. I'm just going to the chapel before lunch is over. I'm going to pray."

"Okay," you say. "Just be safe."

You enter the cafeteria and grab a tray, but you don't have much of an appetite.

As usual, everyone is looking at you.

Elijah must feel just like me, you think. It's too bad you never knew each other. Maybe you wouldn't be so lonely.

What's for lunch today?

Meatloaf. It's slathered with reddish brown goop that must be ketchup.

You have a sick feeling in your stomach. You want to check on Elijah.

You turn around and set the tray back down, and head down the hallway, toward the chapel.

Suddenly, you hear a loud crashing noise and screaming. Your stomach drops.

Please, no.

You round the corner. Enter the chapel.

It's too bright in here. It doesn't feel right.

You look upward. Why can you see sky? The clouds pass over slowly, serene, and the sound of screaming becomes a dull buzz as your ears begin to ring.

A chunk of the ceiling has collapsed. You feel bile rising, the dust in the air upsetting your stomach.

And then you see him - Elijah - only his chest exposed, the rest of his body buried beneath the rubble.

You hear the sirens of an ambulance nearing. On the wall, Mother Mary watches.

His face in your vision pops up into your head again, twisted into that pained, sorrowful expression. This time, you see it in person.

You reach his side and kneel down, with tears streaming down your face.

He is clutching his neck, struggling to breathe. He begins to cough up blood, deep red, noxious.

You put your head to your knees and scream.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't save you," you cry. "Someone, help! Please!"

Tears fall from those all-seeing devils eyes.

Suddenly, you start feeling very strange. You look at your hands; you open them, and close them.

None of this feels quite real.

where normal humans go to die.

In Martina's timeline, abnormal humans are becoming more and more accepted, although many holdouts believe that abnormals are work of the devil. Many parents of abnormal children choose to send them to reformatories much like the one in which Martina was put.

Associates:
Christiana