Devils Roses 01 - Cursed

dry in a towel, which was why I would never fall asleep with one on my head. It fell around my face in a ball of unconditioned mats. Someone else put me to bed. Someone else washed my hair and never conditioned it.
    Pulling the sheet tighter to cover myself, I realized my ring was gone. My mom’s ring wasn't on my right hand. I showered, slept, and lived in that ring from the day my mom died. I had cleaned the blood off of it myself.
    The door creaked open and Alise peeked her head through the crack. I wanted to cry with joy, but I figured I would probably get sick if I did.
    She looked anxious as she walked in. “Oh my God—you’re okay.”
    I put a hand up to stop her. “No. Not okay. No, shouting at me.”
    With a disturbed expression she asked, “What do you remember? Do you remember being at the party?”
    “ No." I shook. "You wanted me to drop you off at Shane’s house. I remember that guy, Wade.”
    She gasped. “That was two days ago. Giselle's in the hospital. Aimee, we think someone drugged you guys.” She sat on the bed beside me, rubbing my arms. Her hand felt like razor blades dragging up my skin. I shivered in pain and sickness.
    “ We need to take you there now. You’ve been throwing up all night.” She put an arm under me to help me stand. “I need to get you in a robe at least, ok?”
    I nodded. I needed a hospital. I felt sick in a way I had never felt.
    “ Where is he?” I asked still foggy on everything.
    “ Blake?” Alise asked, blushing.
    “ No, Wade. Wade with the eyes. Wade from Port Handley.”
    Alise frowned. “You remember Wade?”
    I nodded. “He helped me, I think.”
    “ He’s been gone for a while, Aimes. I think maybe you’re confused. Ready?” she asked pulling at me.
    I nodded. She got me standing and dressed, with only a minor amount of pain everywhere. I wondered what Giselle had to do with me being poisoned. I didn’t like Giselle.
    Shane walked into the room, smiling at me. “Hey, Aimee, are you okay?”
    I didn’t understand what was happening in any way. I was with my sister and Shane.
    I looked at my sister. “What did you do to me?”
    “ I never did anything, I swear.” Her eyes looked funny. She did something. I could see the guilt. She poisoned me.
    I felt the room moving like a choppy ocean. Glimpses rolled back into my mind. I looked at Shane and winced, remembering some parts of the evening. I shook my head, swaying back and forth. “I got sick in your hallway. I’m so sorry, Shane.” My words were thick in my mouth.
    He shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. I obviously have friends who are sleazy bastards. Someone did this to you guys, in my house. I will find out who it was. Right now though, I’m going to carry you to the truck, okay?” His sweet face was truly and genuinely distressed. I wanted to rub it with my hand but I couldn’t move my arms.
    He picked me up carefully, so as not to jostle me. “Wow, you are way lighter than Alise.” he snickered as he said it and Alise smacked the back of his head. “Ow—easy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” He carried me down the stairs like I was air, it was familiar to me. Something about it was creepily similar in my mind. I remembered something about me being carried on his stairs.
    My dad was in the truck; he looked pissed. We called it his 'stress face' and it wasn’t a pretty picture. He got out when he saw us and opened the passenger door, so Shane could lay me inside.
    “ Aimee, are you okay?” He looked terrified.
    “ Need doctor," I muttered.
    He frowned at Shane. “You, young man, are going to stay away from both of my daughters for good.” He swung around to look at Alise with a burning hate in his eyes. “You did this to her; you conned her into coming to this when you know she isn’t like you. You get home now and don’t leave your bedroom for a month, GO!” he screamed, tearing my head apart.
    When Alise looked at me, I saw an apologetic look I had never seen on her face. My sister was ashamed.
    I would have defended them both, but I was too feeble. Shane handed me the bowl that had been on the ground beside the truck. “In case you get sick.”
    “ Sorry,” I muttered again, drooling a little.
    He shook his head. “Feel better, Aimee.” He kissed my sweaty forehead.
    My dad got in the truck slamming the door, again ripping my head apart. I groaned in agony as Shane closed my door softly. My dad never