ACONITE ACADEMY (girlxgirlxgirl)

Chapter Y; The disrespect

"If only my dynasty could've been rid of this dirt sooner"
15

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⚠️ blood, crying, bruises, bandages, scars ⚠️

With dry tears staining her cheeks, stale blood everywhere and soft covers underneath her back, Genevieve comes to be.

For the first time in a long while, she realizes that she has actually slept. Drifted off to dreamland for hours, more than she has in years. Not woken up by nightmares or hazy fear, simply dizzy dreams all throughout. Genevieve doesn't know whether to be confused or relived that she managed to sleep for so long. A part of the reason why she's pretty short is because she didn't sleep enough as a kid, or ever really. The orphanage wasn't really the best place, nor was the mansion where she lived. There was simply no time or space, no safety or will to sleep.

But it doesn't take long before Genevieve realizes another thing. She has no idea where she is, has no idea what is going on. A dull throbbing is sending waves of pain through her body. It makes her nauseous and stuffy inside. Genevieve hesitates before opening her eyes, wonders if she has school and what happened the night before. Oddly enough, she feels sad. Genevieve can't remember why she feels sad. It makes her even more sad. A few tears manage to slip past her eyes before she remembers everything.

The kicks, the punches, the evil eyes that looked down upon her with superiority and cruelty. Then what? Genevieve can't remember anything other than giving up, laying on the pavement with blood everywhere and bruises burning. She doesn't remember limping to the train station, doesn't remember crying, doesn't remember staining her clothes deep red with her own blood and the rain pouring down. She doesn't remember anything, not yet at least. All of the nights emotions are numb now. The room around her is dry, quiet, warm. It's no longer cold, so Genevieve can't remember.

She blinks her eyes open slowly and flinches at the morning sun shining through the windows. At first she doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Everything looks just like it's supposed to. The white ceiling, the angle of the light, the soft covers of the bed, the circular lamp hanging from the ceiling. At first glance, Genevieve recognizes the room as her own. So she doesn't panic. Instead she lays there and blinks up at the ceiling. Starts feeling the dull throbbing get worse and her bruises more apparent, feels the dried blood and uncomfortable tear stains. But it's not as bad as the day before.

That's when Genevieve remembers.

She remembers pushing through the pain, walking down the road in central city late at night. She remembers stopping her tears from falling and stubbornly getting all the way to the train station in one piece. The pain in her leg was unimaginable, she was tired and dizzy and blood was everywhere. She couldn't tell the different between her own blood and the rain. Everything was cold, freezing even, with the rain pouring down and the wind mocking her painful state. Genevieve remembers it all.

The way someone called out her name and she broke her concentration. The way tears started running down her cheeks as she cried for the first time in a long while. The way she allowed herself to sleep, allowed herself to finally sleep. The way everything turned black and she rested against someone's arms. But of course, Genevieve doesn't know what happened after that. Who saved her? Who helped her? Where is she? That's when Genevieve realizes that this isn't her room.