The Bane of Light

The Morning After

"She felt so old, so awfully old and worn, and so young all at once, raw as a wound"- Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

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I woke up in a leisurely, comfortable haze,  and was shocked by my demeanor. My stomach was tingling and felt...fuzzy. Not the bad kind, when I felt the urge to cry from anxiety, but the good kind, like when I would give up all my magic and felt that euphoric nothingness for a few moments. That fuzziness was tingling all around me, through my arms, up my chest and into my diaphragm, rattling my teeth and making me want to rise, to shift,  to move.

The usual heaviness of my limbs and weight pressing down on my chest was gone. Instead, I felt rejuvenated, like an old woman reborn into the body of a child. I felt like a youthful child. That was what was wrong with me. I felt energized. Like a very young, very energized, very alive child.

The feeling made me want to cry for some reason. I was overwhelmed. I knew that the body had that reaction—crying—when it was overwhelmed with a certain emotion, whether it be happiness or sadness. I was neither, simply overwhelmed in general with all this energy. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of being alive. It felt strange, buzzing through the tips of my cold fingers. For once, I realized I didn't mind the cold. It felt like a pleasant shock in my limbs, like a fresh cup of water trickling down your parched throat, after a long, dry night of sleep.

After a moment of deep contemplation, I realized that the energized feeling was not rattling my teeth but my lips, making them want to do something—to rid off all the extra energy I had. My facial muscles were eager to do something. And I let them, giving them full freedom to do what they pleased, seeing that I myself was in no state myself to understand what was going. I realized, with a startle, that I was doing something very, very strange; I was smiling.

The desire I had to strain my facial muscles, was actually my desire to smile. My brows furrowed at the notion, which did nothing but further bring me...not joy...but satisfaction. What the actual Hell was going on? I was not miserable. Instead I was tingling and jolty and giddy, like a fresh spring doe. What happened to me?

Would I start skipping around the halls besides stomping? Start saying good morning to people? Smile? Dear Gods I was becoming Paris. What had this moron done to me? How dare he contaminate me with his putrid happiness? My head ached, but it didn't ruin my mood. I was jolted with the shocking realization that a small inconvenience didn't manage to ruin my entire day. What the Hell did Paris do?

My heart began beating rapidly as I was affronted by the searing light around me, assaulting my closed lids with an aggressive red tint. And then I remembered that there wasn't supposed to be light in my room; it weakened the wards that kept Beastly in place. Which meant my curtains weren't closed. It was bright in my room, like it used to be back at home. It was never supposed to be bright in this room. I never went to sleep without closing my curtains.

My stomach sunk, a cool dread washing over me. My asthmatic breathing increased in speed as I tried to keep myself from hyperventilating. Someone was in my room. They didn't close the curtains to my bed. Someone was in my room. I tried to reach for the dagger that I kept between my mattress and headboard, but found myself physically unable to do so. I was physically unable to move. Someone was on top of me. In my bed. Someone was on top of me. In my bed. Oh Gods. I couldn't help the panic that clawed at my throat, prickling my eyes with tears. Someone was on top of me.

I never slept with people in bed. Never. Which means they placed me here when I was unconscious. I was unconscious. I was unconscious, beyond the state of sleeping. I was unconscious, completely unaware of what was going on around me or what was being done to me. Someone sedated me. Someone sedated me and made me unconscious. Oh my Gods.