The Parables

Medea - Precinct Eleven

Medea - Precinct Eleven

A sudden scream shatters my ears. My eyes open wide and my head jolts up. I listen closely for another sound. Any sound. Something that can help me pinpoint where the scream came from. Unless I imagined it. Was it even real? Am I just being delusional? Pulling the duvet off my legs, I jump down onto the floor and press my ear against the wall. Nothing. Not a single noise. Frowning, I turn around to get back into bed. But then the sense of curiosity gets the better of me and I find myself opening the door and slipping into the dimly lit main area of the carriage.

I cross the room silently, scanning the area for anything unusual. But it's empty. There's nothing here that could've screamed like the scream I heard. Now I know I was just dreaming it up. Just then, as I turn around on my heel to head back to my sleeping quarters, I hear something. A grunt. Some heavy breathing. Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes land upon the door to the kitchen. It's slightly ajar. Through the crack, I can see light. Not daylight, but light from a bulb.

Stealing across the room, I gently push open the door to reveal Celsia standing in the corner of the kitchen, grimacing as she picks up broken fragments of china off the floor. She glances up and smiles weakly at me, then continues to gather up the china.

"What happened?" I query, crouching down to help her.

Celsia throws me a grateful smile and stands up, her hands laden with smashed china. "I was being clumsy and knocked my mug of tea over. I've mopped the water up so the floor may be a little wet." She suddenly winces and turns her wrist over to reveal a large, scarlet scald. "Oh, look at that. I didn't even realise I'd spilt some on me."

"Here, let me help." I take the pieces of china out of Celsia's hand and dispose of them in the bin. "Don't suppose you have any lavender oil?" Celsia shrugs.

"There's probably some in one of those cupboards," she says and flinches again. I smile sympathetically at her then start searching through the cupboards.

"Run the scald under cold water for a few minutes," I instruct, rummaging through the contents of the cupboards. There's everything from Tupperware to chinaware and jam jars to glass bottles.

Eventually, I come across a jar reeking of strong lavender, with a pipette tacked to the side of it. There's not much left in it, but there should be enough. Holding my nose, I clasp it tightly and remove it from the cupboard, then set it down on the kitchen counter. Undoing the lid, I dip the pipette into the oil and squeeze it so it fills up halfway. I take Celsia's hand and turn it over to reveal the scald. Taking the pipette, I gently squeeze eight drops of the lavender oil directly onto the scald and softly rub it in with my finger. I feel Celsia's arm tense up, then relax a little as the effect of the oil starts to kick in.

Looking up, I smile at her. "Better?"

She grins at me and nods. "Much better. Thank you, Medea. You're a genius."

I blush. "I learnt from the best."

"Your mother always had a way with healing people," Celsia remarks. "She was a living gift to Precinct Eleven. Everyone admires her and I'm sure they admire you too. You do help your mother out, don't you?"

I nod. "Most of the time, yeah. If I have school then I only help out in the afternoon, though, but I always enjoy giving her a hand."

"You're going to make a great apothecary," Celsia compliments. I smile.

"Thank you. I'd love to be one, but I'm not sure I'll live long enough to be one."

"We'll give you the very best chance to," Celsia assures me. "Don't worry, you're in good hands."