To Rhial

18

Vetia

What could be better than this? A luxury clinic in a serene location. Kind locals who wait on me all day when I'm hungry or my shoulders start acting up. It's kind of like a spa, y'know?

Except instead of having nothing to do but relax, relaxing was literally the only thing I could do, to the point of mind-numbing boredom. I had all the time in the world to reminisce about how much better my old life was before I got stuck as a woman with glass bones and paper skin. The shards of bone cut into me night and day, so it was easiest to not move at all and to breathe as shallow as I possibly could. At least Mother Yeline spoon fed me my meals. I would have rather had a hot island girl or nurse doing it over a little human-ish creature, but you gotta make do with what you got. At least she filled me in on what I was when I asked. Unfortunately, she stopped visiting once the burns on my organs were healed earlier. On one shattered hand, I could sit up and walk a little. On the other shattered hand was my other shattered hand. And arm. And shoulders. And collarbones. And I wasn't entirely sure, but I was starting to doubt reality a little.

Am I really a woman with glass bones and paper skin? Will I wake up in cooler full of ice somewhere in Mexico with my kidneys gone? Is this all just a really, really fucked up dream? Is my head hurting because of dehydration or a surprise cancer growth that's making me hallucinate all of this? Time will tell, but unfortunately, based on my lucidity and the excruciating pain, I have a bad feeling it's all real.

It was maddeningly exhausting, laying and not being able to do anything. I had a change of course a few days after the guys left town. Some new people showed up. I heard some voices, but only saw two of them. Sounded like things were getting a little extreme. One was a woman with the haircut length of those bitchy moms at the supermarket who always yell for the manager, except she had a cool braid. It started at the top left of her head and was woven across and down the right side, like a half-halo. Her piercing orange eyes were cool and slightly mesmerizing. She looked like a freckled Italian who spent her entire life lifting weights and was dressed like the daughter of some rich family. She wore a loose sleeveless shirt and flowy pants made of some orange silky material. Solid gold earrings, necklaces, and bracelets adorned her. She wore so much jewelry, almost too much. Unfortunately, her personality seemed to match that of her abrasive looks. I saw her for the first time when she was carrying a guy into the bed across from me, the only other bed made for normal-sized people.

I briefly glanced them both over and she was already glaring like she wanted to kill me just for casting my eyes in her direction. I shook my head and sighed my attention elsewhere. I didn't have the energy to bicker, but I was too bored not to be nosy. The guy had bandages around his chest and shoulder, with some blood soaking into the loose clothes. He looked almost identical to the woman, probably her twin, with similar freckled, tanned skin and straight brown hair longer than hers. His face had strong features, with defined cheeks and a jawline that could cut glass. Both of them had sharp, strong faces, but hers was a tad thinner and less sharp. Damn, they were seriously well endowed with looks. He was a bit bulkier but less athletic looking, while she had scars and some serious muscle definition. He wore less vibrant, but still shiny orange pants and a pale orange shirt that looked equally as expensive as her's, though less worn.

She was sponging some blood from his chest with a no-longer pristine white cloth. Then the woman turned to me, a snappy voice at the ready. "Will you sit there and stare or help us, peasant?"

Damn, hitting me with a "peasant" right off the bat.

I really didn't wanna start anything, but something deep within me saw the opportunity to sass this woman and, admittedly, I was desperate for some entertainment. Nobility, wealth, strength aside, I kind of wanted to push her buttons and do a little trolling.