MAEVE [Arc 1]

Chapter 2: Why

Perspective: Maeve

Ugh...what is that noise? My head is pounding and I can hardly think straight. I listen to the sound of peeling paper, but it's not as violent. It's softer than that, almost as if the noise is muffling itself, aware of my presence. I open my eyes, and I'm greeted to the same boring, white, wooden ceiling. The taste of bread still lingers in my mouth from last night. I turn my head to the noise. It's Ethan, standing in front of a wall covered in small square pieces of paper. They look completely foreign to me— it's as if the notes have been glued to the wall by magic. All of them are white, each having two or three words written on them. If only I could read.
I hear Ethan muttering to himself.

Ethan:
"Ah, so everything is kinda backwards... In French, instead of saying 'my mom,' it's 'the mother of me.'"

I gaze at Ethan who stands motionless in front of the countless number of scraps of paper. He's staring intensely at both the book in his hand and the wall before him. Seeming to feel me watching, he flicks his head over to me and opens his arms in an expression of gratitude.

Ethan:
"Ah! Good morning! I'm glad to see you awake! I let you sleep a little longer than normal."

I stare at him and the wall in confusion. He seems to notice my curiosity. He runs his eyes back and forth from each note plastered onto the wood. Not shortly after, he turns back to me with an encouraging smile.

Ethan:
"J'apprends le français!"
[I'm learning French!]

He then pauses, once again turning to the polished wooden wall. I think he's trying to check himself on what words to use, or how to pronounce it. I'm not sure. Honestly I'm just shocked that he's managed to put together a coherent sentence. Still sounds awful though.

Ethan:
"Hmm..."
"Assez bon?"
[Pretty good?]

Yep, that's what he's doing. Luckily for me, I happen to know one English word that will sum up his performance perfectly.

Maeve:
"Bad."

I watch Ethan raise his eyebrow and look through the book in his hand, only to sag his shoulders with a sigh. Obviously, he was a little disappointed in my answer, but the way he went about his reaction was almost comedic. I almost chuckle. Did he do that on purpose?

Ethan:
"Well, I'm trying."

I can't understand what he's saying, but the response he gave sounded sarcastic, like he already knew it was going to sound terrible. He sits down in the rocking chair next to me, leaning forward with an elbow on his knee.

Ethan:
"You've healed a lot faster than I expected. I don't know if that's due to you being young or if it's because of a passive ability you have. Well, it doesn't matter. You should be able to put a little pressure on your leg now, so you should be fine with a crutch. Alright, let's get you to the bathroom. Whether or not you feel like you need to or not, you need to go. I could have you use a bedpan, but I have a feeling you wouldn't be a fan of that."

I turn my head slightly sideways at his own stupidity. I can't tell if he's doing it on purpose or if he's just an idiot. As I stare at him in confusion, he finally seems to notice the issue.

Ethan:
"Rrrright...you can't understand me. Need to stop doing that."

He clears his throat.

Ethan:
"Salle de bains?"
[Bathroom?]

Now that's something I understand. The pronunciation was still terrible but I got the message. He points his finger to a closed door down the room. It's a good fifteen feet away, maybe more. Now that I think about it, the room I'm in is fairly large and the ceiling is two to three feet higher than what I'm used to. This clinic looks more like an incredibly nice house than...well, a clinic. Looking back at Ethan, I nod my head. I don't exactly know what's in that room, but I have to go. He understands the gesture.