Experiment of Madness

9-The Voice Within-Aerra

I kept running, the sound of someone calling after me growing louder. "Your highness, please don't run," the voice pleaded, but I ignored it, my feet pounding against the ground as I continued my dash. Their words about falling fell on deaf ears, my adrenaline-fueled flight pushing me forward.

The voice in my head, the one that spoke in moments of fear or distress, was familiar, a constant presence since I was a child. It had guided me through times of trouble, a constant whisper of warning and advice. Even now, as I ran, it spoke to me, "faster, faster, they're closing in."

The voice called out again, pleading with me, "Princess, please." But I couldn't stop or hesitate, the pursuit behind me fueling my flight. I pushed my body to the limit, my breaths coming in ragged gasps, sweat trickling down my forehead.

The voice in my head spoke urgently again, its tone firm and commanding, "Take a knife." The instruction was unexpected, causing me to pause for a brief moment in my flight. A knife? Why would I need a knife?

My vision flickered, my eyes opening slightly to take in my surroundings. There, sitting in a chair, was Dag, pen in hand, his own gaze fixed on the paper before him. Writing.

The thought crossed my mind suddenly, almost a question to myself. Has Dag returned from school now? The realization settled in as I took in his presence. Yes, he must have just come from school, judging by his appearance and the activity he was engaged in - writing.

Our gazes met, mine and Dag's, a silent connection formed in that moment. It was as if the world around us faded for a brief instant, leaving only the two of us. His eyes held an intensity that mirrored my own confusion and curiosity.

The question came out of my lips almost involuntarily, my voice betraying my curiosity and surprise, "For how long have you been watching?"

As usual, Dag had a way of turning the tables and redirecting the attention. Instead of addressing my question, he posed one of his own, "The real question is, from how long have you been sleeping?"

I fell silent, not knowing exactly how to respond. I didn't know how long I had been asleep, my thoughts muddled, and my memory hazy. But one thing was certain, I couldn't tell Dag that. He already seemed to sense my confusion and unease, his gaze sharp and perceptive.

Dag's words broke the silence, his voice steady and matter-of-fact, "You've been sleeping for a day," he stated, confirming my suspicions. I had been sleeping for a full day, yet I couldn't recall falling asleep or waking up. It was unsettling, the lack of memory only adding to the sense of displacement.

The surprise in my voice was obvious. "A day?" I echoed, the magnitude of the statement sinking in. I couldn't believe it. A full day had passed, and I remembered nothing. How was that possible?

Panic surged through me as my fingers touched my hair, only to find it chopped off. The sight of my once long hair now in disarray and drastically shortened sent a jolt of shock through me. "What the hell?" I whispered aloud, my voice a strangled gasp. What had happened to me?

My confusion and panic only heightened as Dag's smirk widened, his eyes now fixed on me with a mocking air. "You really don't remember," he echoed, his tone almost taunting. How could I not remember?

As the realization of my disheveled hair sunk in, a new wave of pain shot up my back. I winced, my hand immediately going to touch the aching area. "My back hurts too," I said, my voice tinged with pain. "What happened?"

Dag's words hung in the air, a sudden revelation. "Yesterday when I came from school," he began again, "I saw you chopping your hair off." His voice was calm, but the impact of his words was heavy. I had chopped my own hair. But why? I had no memory of doing such a thing, and yet, if Dag said he had seen me do it...