Chapter 43: Chapter 43: The Yule Spirit.

Chapter 43: The Yule Spirit.

Despite Bonnie's protests, Shannon still got all the toys out of their boxes, and bought a tree in a pot, for them to decorate. Now, Bonnie must battle with her demons, and help out.

"Bonns? Can you tape that snowflake next to the painting of the dancing gnomes?" Shann asks me, and I take it from her hands. She, with her meter and 65 centimeters, can't reach that painting. No way in hell, unless she takes a chair.

The thing about Shann is that, she is scared of heights. Even climbing a chair is enough to give her the shakes. I take the snowflake, and then lumber my way to the door.

When I bought the painting, I thought it was funny. Now, that the gnomes look to be staring at me with judgement in their eyes, I don't find it funny, anymore.

"Bonns, are you ok?" I must have lingered next to the painting for far too long because the gnomes look as if they are speaking to me.

"I think I need another Narcan," I tell Shannon, who shakes her head.

"You will overdose. Come on, Bonns, I know you are a fighter," I feel her hand on top of my shoulder, and look into her clear green eyes.

"I don't know if I can do this, Shann," I have been taking troll's thumb since I was eight. It tastes just like candy.

 Since it is a plant, some would say a weed, it is inexpensive. My mother always liked snacking on it after dinner. It is something she shared with me, even as her eyes became hazy.

"Sure, you can. Come on, Bonns. Prove that you are a keeper," Shannon hugs me, and pats my shoulder. I take in her lavender scent, and wonder if she still uses the lavender oil, I bought her last Yule. Surely, she must have run out by now.

"What if I am not?" I don't kid myself. I know I am a junkie.

 Just because I buy the stuff from a supermarket, as if it is gum, doesn't mean that I don't indulge into something that gave my mother high blood pressure, and ultimately killed her.

She pinches my arm then. It sort of hurts.

"Doll," I begin, as she pinches me again.

"How about you sit on the couch, and I can finish here?" She asks, her lips pursed. I nod, my legs can't keep me upright anymore, anyway. Yet, before I go to the good old L shaped couch, I tape the snowflake right above the silly painting with the still dancing gnomes.

I just hope that Shann doesn't get wind of the fact, that I can see them dancing. One may think that, in a world with magic, that is not so uncommon. But I bought a regular, mana less, painting. So, I know for a fact, that I am seeing things.

I lay on the couch, and stare at the ceiling. I don't know for how long, but sweat begins to dampen my shirt. Furthermore, I tug at my collar. Why is it so hot in here? Am I going into shock?

"Bonns, where do you think we should put the tree?" Shann's voice snaps me back to reality.

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"I don't know? Maybe we could move the TV away? To get access to the outlet?" I ask her. She bounces up to me, and then places a hand on my forehead.

"You are burning up," she says with a frown. "Come on, help me move the TV."

I don't understand why she wants to include me now, but the manual labor is like a balm to me. I move the TV, and then the good old L.

I have to go to the sink, to wash my face, every so often. Yet, Shann doesn't let me go back to the L. When we are done, I think that the whole decoration screams copper store. Yet, I don't comment on it.

We hear the doorbell, and she rushes to the door.

I make to leave. To hide in our bedroom. We were roommates, before we were together. A small apartment, with only one bed. Before, we cuddled up more often than not. I wonder, will this stop now, that I can't stand being in my skin? I just need…

"Young lady, halt! We must speak," I see a jolly old man in the doorway. My eyes widen. Shannon stares at him with more than a little confusion. This is grandpa Thinker, or, it could be another illusion.

"Hello?" I ask, making my way to the Yule spirit. He comes in, his sack barely fitting into our entryway. I want to ask Shann if she is seeing him too. Yet, I don't want to worry her.

"Hello, young lady. I came in here to congratulate you," the jolly old man comes closer to me, and then stops. He pulls out a heavy box from his sack, and hands it to me. "It takes either great bravery, or great love, to stop with a bad habit."

I think he is putting it all too lightly, but I don't correct him. Instead, I open the box, and see that there is the premium grade Narcan inside. Bags upon bags of the stuff.

"Hello, who might you be? Is this Narcan?" Shannon asks, looking from the spirit of Yule, to me, and then back.

"My name is grandpa Thinker, and I came to say something to one Bonnie Celera," the old man says, and then takes a hold of my hand. "Bonnie, you have a good thing in your life. A woman who is willing to relieve her nightmare, just so you will wake up from yours. Now, give me the last packet of troll's thumb you keep in the apartment."

And there it is, the betrayal in Shannon's eyes. She looks at me with wide eyes, as I go to the big L, and take off one of the cushions. She shakes her head, as I bring the packet, with its skeleton kneeling for a prayer, to the old man.

"How could you?" Shannon asks, as tears fall down her eyes.

"I haven't eaten it, since I promised you that I will stop," I let my voice plead with her. I just wanted for her to be happy.

But how can she be happy, with someone who does drugs? She storms out of the apartment, and I go back to the big L. I collapse on it, after placing the pillow back.

The jolly old man goes out into the night, ready to mend what he broke.