VOICELESS

The Taste of Forbidden Fruit

Air filled her lungs in an involuntary gasp. Laqueta's eye snapped open and she sat up. Her head was pounding and her throat was parched and raw.

What- where... where am I?

Her head was spuning, and her thoughts were slow and heavy. She shut her eyes, hoping the dizziness would pass quickly.  Sounds were around her, but they were muffled as if cotton were stuck in her ears.

Maybe I've caught an awful head cold? She wondered annoyed. Her head did fill like it was congested, but something told her that wasn't it.

Her senses felt dulled and muddled. She could feel the cold slick cobblestone under her fingers, but it didn't seem to penetrate past her skin. The air around her felt muggy and saturated. She vuagly felt droplets of water form, and snake down her skin.

But just like the cobblestone, it seemed dull. As if weren't real, only a phantom of a feeling. The only sense that was not dulled seem to be her sense of smell. It overpower every other sense and was heightened. She could smell the salt in the mist as it drifted from the sea, and over the docks into the city. She could smell every kind of filth.

Laqueta wrinkled her nose in disgust. The smell of garbage, rotting food wafted all around her. There was also the sour smells of stail beer and puddles of urine. A bit farther away, the drifts of sweet smelling tabaco smoke and opium reached out to her.

Salt. Beer. Opium... she figured she must be very close to, or at, the docks by the opium and gambling warehouses.

How did I get here? The masters house is on the other side of the city...

The dull sound of scurrying feet, tinny claws scratching stone reached her, but not before the foul smell of the rats wet fur. There was also the smell of old blood.

Her blood.

A faint aroma of colone.

Expensive.

And leather, of a rich quality.

Slowly she opened her eyes again, and glanced around. She was sitting in a pile of rubbish, down an obscure back alley. She could see the main street faintly illuminated by dimm lamps glowing in the mist. 

Everything had a slick sheen from the moisture of the air and everything seemed to be grey and in shadow. Perhaps it was the mist. But the shadows had a strange sharpness to them. Shouldnt the mist blur and distort the edges and lines?

Laqueta struggled to her feet. Fingers pressed against rough brick as she steadied herself against one of the buildings that lined the alley. Her head seemed to suddenly ache sharper and throb angrily at her temples.

She squeezed her eyes shut and cringed. She clutched at her stomach as it twisted threatening to expel its bare contents. It felt hollow and empty as if she hadn't eaten in days.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth felt like a desert, and no moisture would form on her tongue to sooth it. It was as if she had swallowed sand, that scratched it's way down with the constricting of her throat.

Gods I'm so thirsty...

The smells of the alley assailed her nostrils again, making her gag. She felt bile burning up her throat. She smelled too much of everything, all at once.

How did I get here? her foggy brain wondered, and she tried to think back but it was fuzzy and muddled.

Did something happen? Did I try one of the opium dens? No. That didn't sound like something she would ever even consider...