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It has been 3 weeks of trying to wake up, 3 weeks of moping around the palace trying to move something, speak to someone, break a hole in the wall because it's very boring, these four walls. No color, no candles, just light from a small open window, if I didn't have a stable temperature of 94 degrees then I would think they are trying to freeze me to death at night. But mainly 3 weeks alone.
Doctors come in and out, all wanting to be the one to cure this mysterious thing that entrapped a young female in a death like state. I can't tell you how many doctors I saw, I lost count after the first week. But out of all these doctors there is no one with any clue on how to fix me. The room they stow me in is like a revolving door of doctors, one in, one out, one in again.
"Vitals are still good, BP is normal, pupils are unreactive, extremities are unreactive to pressure and temperature is low." The nicest thing an unknown doctor said was 'We should get some more blankets in here for when she is not being examined.' Obviously he noticed that I was freezing and maybe that's why my temperature is low or maybe my body is slowly dying because I've heard that dead bodies get colder over time. The blankets bring warmth to my cold soul, so much so that I dream.
I'm having a dream, a real dream. I dream of a man but I can't see him, not clearly at least. But somehow this unknown figure in front of me is someone I know. I know who he is, then again I don't. The walls are white and the ceiling looks like mirrors shimmering his reflection. I look back to the man and I see his lips moving but I can't hear him. Now his lips remain still and all I hear is screams.
"Please" I yell out "please" I don't know what I'm begging for but, he seems to know.
"Don't be afraid" he says and I slump to the ground.
"I'm always afraid" I yell back "how can I not be afraid? Any moment could be my last?"
"My child do not be afraid"
"Dad?" I rise slowly but this man is too short to be my father and his hair is too long. "Who are you?" I yell out trying to focus the man's face but my vision blurs every time I am almost able to hold his face in my mind.
"Do not be afraid, for I am with you"
"Who are you?" My yell sounds like sirens to his smooth calm voice, but he just keeps repeating his statement. The walls no longer look that fresh white and the mirrors start to crack and bits fall from the sky breaking thoroughly on the blackened floor. "How do I not be afraid?" I finally ask willing myself up, to face a faceless figure. "How can you help me?"
"Believe." He says simply and he turns to leave. I stand stunned for a moment.
"Believe?" I call out and follow after him. "Believe in what?"
"Believe that I will care for you, that I will save you."
"But who are you?" He turns away again continuing on his path away from me. I try to follow after him but my feet are stuck to the ground. "Wait" I call pulling at my legs, trying to make my feet move but they remain stuck in this one spot unable to move, unable to be free, of this glamourized prison. My breath is rushed and heavy, and I'm shaking slightly cupping my hands over my ears to block the screams. Just a dream I think as I rise fully from the bed and look down to my still motionless body. Believe? I think again, but believe in whom?
There is a slight knock at the door, Arren I think with a smile. Forgetting or at least trying to forget the strange dream. I greet him and move to the window to stretch out my worries and confusion from the dream. The sun hasn't risen yet but its coming. The light comes like it always does but the shadows of the night stay longer this time. I move back and forth from the window waiting for the sun to rise and the clouds to fade away. It takes a long while before a silver of light shines through the clouds and for a minute everything is alright. But just as it comes, the sun shine disappears but I still see it trying to shine through but it can't get through. I look down to the people, the shadows make it seem as though everyone has a personal monster following them around.
The dark is blinding but I can find my way to you. I think and move away from the window and find comfort in Arren's eyes.
Arren is nicer then nice, Matthews is nice, Arren is compassionate. Matthews and Russo are smart but Arren is a genius, even if he can't figure me out. Although Arren is not the most handsome like Mitch, who is gorgeous, Arren is funny and goofy, and in a nerdy way quiet handsome himself. So maybe if I'm stuck like this... I wonder, it might be okay because I would have him. He spends hours with me every other day and each time he comes he would tell me about his day, or another patient, anything really. Maybe he is lonely too or maybe he thought that communicating with my body might spark some sort of reaction in my brain to wake the hell up! When Arren is getting ready to leave for the day he grabs the blanket from the end of the bed and swoops it over me, pulling the edge back so it isn't covering my face.
"Goodbye Zena? No, that's not quit right either but Zena is the name of a warrior in one of my stories and you," his hand pats my arm, "are defiantly a fighter." He turns to leave grabbing his bag, but just before he opens the door he turns so slightly towards me as if he was talking to himself but also to me. "Keep fighting."
YOU ARE READING
Pricked
FantasyEveryone knows the story of sleeping beauty. But what if the wrong girl got pricked ?