Of Masks And Roses

Home

I slowly awoke to the soft beeping of the heart monitor, blinking as the light of day shone through the windows and onto the bed. My eyes fluttered, heavy with the drugs the doctors had dosed me with to go to sleep, and my head ached from all the screaming I had done.

My gaze turned to the room that I was in. There was a bathroom across the room from me, a few chairs here and there, and a door to the right, which I assumed led out to the hallway. I could hear birds chirping outside the large window to my left and the leaves on the trees bathed the room in a slight naturesque green. It was summer here.

I felt tears fill my eyes as I inspected myself. I was thinner and paler and it hurt to move my stiff legs. My hair was a bit shorter than I could remember. Instead of my long hair that would go to mid back, now it was just barely below my shoulders, probably so it was easier to take care of. The color was a bit duller as well, and it felt stiff and frail as I raised a hand to touch it. There was an I.V. in my arm, and my hand hurt slightly when I moved it around.

My lip trembled as I stared up at the ceiling. I was back home. After all of that turmoil, anger, and hurt, happiness, joy, and love, it was all for nothing. I may have helped Erik realize that he wasn't alone, and to give up Christine, but now I was here. Without him. And he was in a whole other world, without me. If that world even existed at all.

Tears started to fall down my face. I blinked, taking deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm myself down to no avail.

'Nothing,' I thought to myself, 'All for nothing. If any of it even happened at all. What if it was all in my head? Just an illusion. Just my imagination. But it had been so real. It had all seemed so real.'

I gasped slightly as the door swung open and a nurse walked in, smiling sweetly at me. Her thick, curly black hair was pulled into a high bun on the top of her head, and she wore blue scrubs, with a name tag that read Sandra on it.

"How're you feelin'?" she asked, standing at my bedside.

My mouth opened and closed, finally spitting out in a raspy voice, "I-I'm okay."

She tilted her head at me, grinning brighter, "Nothing hurts? No cuts, no bruises, no bumps?"

I shook my head, "N-No."

She nodded, "Good, good. Now, I'm just going to ask you some questions, okay? If you don't know the answer, that's perfectly fine." I nodded in response, "What is your name?" she asked.

"Scarlet."

"Your full name?"

"Scarlet Harper Moore."

"Good, good," she whipped out a clipboard and pen, and I hadn't even noticed that she had it. She scribbled some things on it, then turned to me again, "Do you know how old you are?"

I paused. I had turned 23 in the 1800's, but when the accident happened I was 22. Was I still 22? Was I 23? "L-Last I remember I was 22." I mumbled, digging my nails into my arm.

She scribbled some more, then held up three fingers, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."

"Good," more scribbling, then she dug through her pockets, fishing out a tiny flashlight, "Keep your eyes open for me, okay?" she leaned forwards, shining the light in my eyes and sweeping it back and forth, "Good job," she said as she tucked it away. I blinked furiously, the room turning blue for a moment.

"Can you touch a finger to your nose?" I did so with ease, "Good. To your ear? Good. To an eye? Good." A few more scribbles and then she tucked the clipboard away, "Alright, Seems like you're healthy, nothing seems to be wrong. We might do a quick CT scan of your head, just to make sure everything is alright in there. Don't want you to slip into another coma." she chuckled.