untitled

ch 3

"Wake up honey." A sweet voice murmured. I felt a soft hand brush my forehead. I smiled, keeping my eyes closed. The comfort I felt hearing this voice was remarkable, and I realized it had been a very long time since I'd heard it. I wanted to lay there forever, in her arms, knowing she was with me. 

"Sweetie, I need you to be brave." Suddenly, the gentle voice broke with fear and the warmth was gone from my head. My eyes shot open and I saw her face, my beautiful mother, but instead of the smile I remembered, I saw tears streaming from her anguished eyes. 

"Please." She begged, turning. I looked up. A man stood above her, a wicked smile on a twisted face I tried not to recognize. He met my gaze, wild and eager, and I knew it was over. 

---

My eyes opened, for real this time, and met a pale white ceiling. I was instantly confused. Was I sleeping? Dreaming? How? Where was I? I heard a muffled voice and the events of the previous night slowly clicked into place. I sat up quickly and was met with my body's resistance, however less than before. I stared blankly at the wall and felt the soreness of my body. I heard the voice, louder this time, but I couldn't understand what it was saying. I stretched, my body cracking and groaning, still feeling like a heavy weight. My stomach still twisted and ached with any movement and my ankle, wrapped tightly in something I couldn't see under a thick blanket, throbbed. Besides that, I felt better than I could've imagined, given last night. 

I slowly crawled across the bed, still woozy, and stood once finding my way off the edge. My limbs were awkward, but I was expecting it, so it didn't throw me off guard nearly as much this time. I stood still for a moment, testing my balance, before slowly creeping toward a doorway at the end of the room. I stood just in front of the opening of a thinly cracked door, trying to listen to the conversation without being seen. I then noticed an adjacent door in the wall to my left. 

I froze as I took in a girl staring at me from the thin frame. She had ragged, long black hair that touched her waist. She stood tall, her shoulders squared, though she couldn't be stand much bigger than five feet. She didn't seem afraid of me, mostly curious to see me standing there. Her clothes seemed unlike her, the pants a little loose and the shirt far too big. There was something shocking about her, but I couldn't place it. I looked up and met her dark blue eyes. 

My eyes, I realized. I decided it must be a mirror. My eyes were the only discernible thing I could remember about my appearance, after all this time without seeing it. I took a moment to revel in the sight of my appearance, so long forgotten. The girl -- myself, I corrected mentally, -- shared the visible temperament of a wild animal, the widening eyes and quickening breath changing the courageous posture held just a moment before. I couldn't fully believe that face to be my own. 

I heard the voice again and turned toward it, recognizing that it was the boy's. 

"Angelica. I do not know." He enunciated every word clearly, as if making a point. He was frustrated again, his tone strained. 

"How did she know your name?" Her voice was conversational and light, but I could hear her concern. 

"I don't know." He repeated, gentler, with a sigh. "I have no idea who she is." 

For some reason I didn't like hearing this, though true as it was. 

"It didn't seem that way in the car. Is she--" She paused, seemingly not wanting to continue. "Is she with him? Is that what this is?" I listened intently for his answer, puzzled. Who could she imagine I was with? Who was he?

"No." His tone was suddenly hard and angry. Clearly being with 'him' was a bad thing. There was a moment of silence before Ryley spoke again, his tone softer and apologetic. "No, I think I would be able to tell if she was."