The light and relaxing scent of tea wafts though the house as the deep, resonating vibration of thunder makes the house shudder. Eyes fluttering open, I become aware of the gentle caress of a cool cushion under me, the feathery weight of a blanket draped over me, the gentle whisper of hushed voices; all foreign to me. Heart pounding, I pry my eyes open and gaze at the unfamiliar ceiling above me and attempt to shake myself from the drowsy stupor that takes grasp in an attempt to draw you back into the world of rest. Sitting up quickly, I wince at my slight headache and observe the room that I am in. Lush, cream coloured carpet covers the floor and fine tapestries adorn the walls. Several comfortable looking chairs are scattered about the room and a mahogany dresser sits against the wall with what appeared to be a silver plated mirror hung above it. My gaze moves to the bed I am in. Vivid white sheets lay haphazardly thrown around me and the thick, quilted comforter lay at my feet, most likely remnants of fitful sleep . Pushing the sheets back and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I stand, feet silent against the plush carpet. Quietly I creep towards the seemingly glimmering mirror and look at my reflection. Amazingly, the lines that had well -lined my face- were either gone or almost completely faded. My eyes that were dull and blood-shot from sleep deprivation had returned to their typical bright selves. It was then that I realized that my previous clothes had been replaced with a light and flowing white gown that reached around my knees.
WHAT?! WHO THE HECK CHANGED ME?! WHAT IF IT WAS SOME PERV? OH NONONONONONO.... somebody is gonna get punched for this.
Ceasing the freaking out, I glance one more time at my reflection and head towards the door. Laying my hand lightly upon the doorknob, I gently ease the door open a few inches and peer out into the dim hallway.
This isn't unsettling or anything
Pushing the door open a bit more, I slide through the opening and into the hall. Faint voices resonated from further down it, and being my curious self, I followed, footsteps muted by the low buzz of thunder, and paused just when I could make out what they were saying.
"Father is so not going to be happy with this." a feminine voice says.
"Yea, but for these dreams to be effecting her as they are...it's quite concerning." a masculine voice muses.
"I kind of feel like we brought this upon her...perhaps this is our punishment for allowing ourselves to befriend and become close to someone again." the feminine voice sighs out.
"Don't think like that, Sienna!" a perky voice half shouts.
Sienna? Wait...
My mind flashes back to the events that happened before. Sliding back a few more steps, I slowly and quietly make my way back to "my" room. Closing the slightly ajar door, I return to my bed and rest my head on my knees, mind whirring over what was said.
What could they mean by "brought it on her" er..me?
After a few minutes of thoughtfulness, I hear light footsteps come down the hallway and pause at my door. Looking up, the door opens just as a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, sending blinding shards of light through the window and into the room. The shadows danced in stiff and jerky movements, creating weird and frightening effects across the walls and floors, casting a half shadow over the face of the person who was entering, making nothing but the mouth and white hair visible.
"How are you feeling?" I relax as the voice of Jace carries over the rolling sounds of thunder.
"Ok, I guess." I answer, "Where am I?"
"After you passes out, we brought you to our house." replied Jace, and with a light teasing tone he said, "Don't worry, we let your parents know so they wouldn't file a missing persons report."
Laughing lightly I stood and stretched.
"Oh and Sienna was the one who changed you." he said with a little smirk.
"Shut up." I say, sticking my tongue out at him.
"So mature." he says motioning for me to follow him.
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YOU ARE READING
The Game Called Life
RandomLife, an ever-changing road sustained by our dreams and ambitions. Each day a surprise, and with seemingly no rhyme or reason to the things we must face. Each and every person traverses a differing path, not one the same. Each one has a purpose, reg...