We resume a second time in the school’s front office. Pray the Reader pause upon the darkness I endure. Forgive me this effort to forestall the final chapter, facing now as I did then a painful point of view.

I write metaphorically, rigid as I was, still upon the resting place I’d been provided there. The chilly cover of the cot I occupied informed me of my situation and the failure it implied. I could hear Sister Wyx rolling to and fro. I pretended not to wake, fearful of her scorn. I relaxed just slightly as she stopped away from me, standing then to shuffle to the exit of the room.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine in time,” the Sister supposed. “It’s a busy day for nurns. I’d better get back.” Slow and steady footsteps echoed as she hobbled off. I declined to lift my eyelids even once she’d left.

I lay there lamenting the destruction of my dream. I had lost all hope of challenging the balance beam. I felt certain I had failed to even make the grade. I had never known ‘til then a more complete defeat.

“Good girl,” something secret whispered in my ear, taunting me with terror as I battled back the tears. I perceived a putrid pressure pushing through my chest. “I will have him now. You may have your rest.”

I suppose my secret struggle stifled my senses. I failed to perceive swifter footsteps drawing near. “Why are you still lying there?” came a haughty call. My invader yielded as I yelped at Rachel’s voice.

Rachel scoffed beside me. “I knew you were awake.” I opened my eyes to behold her steely stare. I beheld as well the presence pushing out of me: tens of tendrils born of substance Rachel couldn’t see.

I defied reflexive fear to focus on my rival, ready to deliver the dejection she deserved. I caressed my bracelet for what comfort it could bring. I inhaled a shaky breath to brace myself for scorn.

Imagine my wonder when my rival took a knee, lowering herself to the level where I lay. “What’s been up with you?” she inquired then. “You’ve been extra weird since what happened in the woods.”

“I don’t know,” I deceived, doubtful of her cause. I could not imagine then that Rachel cared for me. “What’s it matter anyway? Rachel wins again. If you’re here to brag, just get it over with.”

The tendrils intensified their teasing of my heart, hastening its hammering as final failure loomed. Pain adorned my features as I hid them with my arms. Thus concealed, I denied myself a glimpse at grace.

“Seriously,” Rachel spoke surprisingly softly, “what’s the matter?” Her inflection tempted me to look. She’d hardened her features by the time I took a peek, blue eyes boring into me as she demanded, “Well?!”

Maybe motivated by my rival’s rare appeal, I defied competing pains to push myself upright. “I don’t know,” I repeated, wrestling for response. “It’s a lot. I don’t think you’d get it if I said.”

“Try me,” Rachel ordered firmly as before. I let out a somber sigh and spoke as she desired.

“I don’t know if I can tell you if you can’t see. I’ve just had a lot of problems piling up lately. I’ve been getting sicker since I fell in the ravine, and all kinds of crazy stuff is happening to me.

“I tried everything I could to get better by now,” I concluded as my sharing forced a flow of tears. I lowered my face as they trickled to the floor. “I’m so sick of losing everything because I’m weak.”

I erupted then into a bout of bitter sobbing. I endure its scar upon my psyche to this day. But again, I missed out on reckon of my rival. I imagine that she might have shed a tear herself. But she shared no sign of sorrow as she straightened up, standing over me as I conceded my defeat. I was sure she’d meet my mewling with a frigid shoulder. I suppose that’s why I shrieked when she gripped mine instead.

“What the mess are you talking about?!” Rachel blared bemused. “You think I don’t know you’re sick? Everybody does! You’re puking and passing out like every other day, but that never stopped you from competing before!”

I raised mournful auburn eyes as Rachel reached her point: “You haven’t lost yet. You’re just giving up. You can still pass if you walk the balance beam. And it just so happens that there’s time to take it on.”

I nearly forgot the offensive in my chest at the unfamiliar feeling of Rachel’s gentle grip. “Lucky you,” she prodded. “Are you good to go, or do I have to carry you both ways?”

Sheer bewilderment expressed upon my countenance. “You carried me here?” I asked breathlessly.

“Duh!” Rachel snarked. “Like I did before! How’d you think you got here?” She glowered at me.

Shaken through and through amid another break in sense, I went silent as my psyche realigned again. I wondered at what it meant if Rachel’s claims were true. I struggled to grasp why she’d even give them voice. Where had gone the hurtful, haughty rival I remembered? Where had been the sweeter side before me in that room? Where had been this grace before her challenge by the river? Had she really been the reason I had made it back?

“We don’t have all day,” Rachel pointed out.

Startled from my musing, I uttered an ask. “Why help me compete with you?”

Rachel crossed her arms. “Because Piggy Prissy is the only one who tries.”

Heartened though I was by her sweetness up ‘til then, her return to taunting me sparked reflexive ire. She responded to my scowling with her snooty smirk. “You don’t look so weak right now,” she coolly observed.

I would have the Reader know that I lacked her conviction. I had simply answered her insult instinctively. But the moment clued me in to crucial recognition: rekindled desire dulled the chaos in my chest. As I took the hand that Rachel offered for my rising, I could feel the wriggling retreating from my form. I decided then that it was worth a final trial. I would learn at last the limits of my mental grit.

So, I rushed with Rachel from St. Circe’s front office, speeding through the sterile central hallway on a quest. I could hear the chants and cheering common to challenge. I held fast to focus as we hastened to the field.