Poisonous Love

Fiction

The scuffles of feet dragging on carpet was the first thing she noticed.

Then a soft beat began to play against her temples, a familiar ache caused by a disruption to the delicate balance of coffee consumption. The significant increase in pain let her know it was certainly too little coffee.

The distinct sound of sniffling and heavy breathing provided little comfort in aiding in recuperation from caffeine addiction. It grated her nerves, the sound of crying.

She wanted to rest.

"Shut up"
While her voice felt awkwardly nasally, she managed to project her complaint and curl back into sweet oblivion.

It wouldn't come.

A biting pain in her frontal lobe was the culprit. It started to burn until a groan escaped her lips.

Why was it hurting so badly?
As if her head was going to burst.

Then it hit.

Slowly at first, like a facet being loosened, and then all at once. Running water, images and voices circling around like a cinematic movie...

What was a movie?

It was a fast projection of images sped up to simulate real time... right?

A name...Rosalia De Vermillion.

Who was that?

A small child with thick pink hair, lovingly spoiled and dressed like a Princess.

Then another girl, or a woman, standing with a certificate and dressed in a black gown and cap. Short black hair and tall, a skinny woman with pale skin and dark eyes. She was alone, but grinned with pride.

She felt the aching worsen until everything went black.

There was no telling how much time had passed, but she could smell something sweet. Cinnamon and something else with a name which her mind refused to recall. It felt familiar, as a wave of nostalgia hit her.
Where was she? Who was she?

Eyelids fluttered, and the small girl in the large canopy struggled to see the world around her.
A finger twitched, before a leg stretched out. Joints cracked painfully, as if laying comatose for too long.
Raising her shoulders and letting them fall, she finally opened her eyes.

A soft lilac ceiling greeted her. White lace ribbons were tied around the boarder of her sleeping arrangements.
She was beneath a canopy, and the soft and silky material surrounding her matched.
This bed... felt lavish yet comfortable.
Dry lips cracked open to speak, but nothing came out.

"My Lady...!" A woman appeared. Dressed in a black and white dress, she oddly resembled a maid.
Wide doe brown eyes, irritated and red around the rims, stared at her with concern.
Slight panic overtook her. This woman, she knew her.
Yet, the name wasn't recalled.
Was she sick? This didn't seem like a hospital, but she couldn't be sure. Her mind was still fuzzy on the logistics of the situation.

"W-water..." she croaked like a frog, but at least she could communicate. The words on her tongue were natural, but the words themself surprised her.
What language was she speaking?

"Yes, yes, please wait a moment" the young woman was quick on her feet. She rushed around the bed where the canopy dropped and she could no longer see her. The clanking alerted her that she would soon have something to help the burning in her esophagus.
The woman returned, carrying a cup artfully decorated. It even appeared hand painted, causing an odd thought to cross her mind.
How much would such an item cost?

"Please My Lady, drink while I call for a doctor, please be patient" the woman spoke formally and respectfully, her body language showed professionalism as well as naivety.  She couldn't place why this woman was familiar, or why she trusted her words. Couldn't she be lying? What if this was a sick experiment and she was a tester?

Why was she so suspicious?

The throbbing in her temples became evident once more when the pain in her throat receded. Her eyes danced over the room, as she struggled to sit up properly. The woman had left a door open, but she couldn't see outside of the room from her placement in bed.
Glancing down at her hands, she realized she couldn't recall what she looked like.

Her hands were small and delicate. Like a child. Was she a child?

The woman returned, looking out of breathe. Didn't she say she would call the doctor, and not run to inform him personally?
The man who came with was a much taller and plump individual. His white hair and long beard suggested this must've been his practice for quite some time.
His dark eyes held nothing, and she felt inwardly perplexed at such a face.
Weren't doctors compassionate? Why choose such an occupation then? Money?

The ache increased the more she thought, so she decided to give up on figuring more out. She leaned back on the numerous pillows behind her again, feeling sweaty and exhausted just sitting straight.

"Lady Vermillion, a pleasure. Would you mind if I examined you and asked a few questions?" He spoke respectfully like the woman, but his body language and tone betrayed him. What could she do though? She wasn't in a position to question what her exact situation was.
With a nod from her, the doctor stepped forward and sat on the chair beside the bed. He pulled out a strange glass ball, about the size of an apple.

"Please" the man handed the ball towards her, but she took it despite her confusion.

The ball lit up, nearly causing her to drop the strange thing. It began warming in her palms, glowing a soft light green.
The doctor nodded, carelessly grabbing the object back, and pulling out a notebook to scribble into.
No information had been exchanged yet.

"Right, Lady Vermillion, your vitals seem healthy and normal. Please look into this light" he produced a small pen like object, but with a click a small bright light came out.
A flashlight?
The doctor shined it into her eyes, while she struggled not to close them or look away.

The light turned off, and the doctor gave a grunt.

"Do you remember how you injured yourself Lady Vermillion?"

He finally asked her a question... she just didn't have the correct answer.

"I'm sorry... I don't" she felt oddly guilty. Not because she couldn't remember her injury... but she couldn't rationalize why he was calling her Lady Vermillion. She wasn't married, nor an aristocratic woman, was she?
She felt wrong inside somehow.

"You fell down the estate staircase, in the main hall. It was quite a reckless thing to do, running down those steps" the doctor chastised her.

"Sir, please mind your place in front of my Lady" the woman finally made her presence known again, and the serious look and frown on her face made her feel warm. This woman was protecting her?

"My apologies for my discourtesy" The doctor didn't sound sincere in the slightest.

"Yes, you should be fine in a few days. Call me if you have any questions" this doctor seemed to sincerely dislike her, she decided. He said to call him, but he was leaving before any questions could be asked!

"I do have one issue sir..." she struggled to word her sentences correctly. The doctor looked slightly irritated but turned to look at her nonetheless. At least he did his job to a degree.
She decided to be upfront, and hopefully following that, be able to leave whatever place this was.

Where was her home though?

"I've been experiencing migraines... and I'm confused..." she glanced down at her hands before looking back at the doctor and kind maid.

"Who is Lady Vermillion, and where am I?"