When she opened her eyes, she was standing on a very high hill. The wind tore at her hair, now red and wavy, and white dress, the edges of the hem brown with mud. Beside her was a tree. It was grayish and brown, like it was decaying. There were no leaves, only zigzaging, lightning-like branches that spoke of pestillence, famine, and death.
The air was cold and hugging herself did nothing to aid her, but she kept her arms around her anyway. Her fingers and nails were dirty. Her feet were bare, and the wet soil beneath her gave an icy and uncomfortable feeling. Despite the cold air and the storm-like weather, she didn't panic.
Not until she saw what lay on the ground at the foot of the hill. There were gray and fading-white slabs buried halfway onto the ground. Letters she recognized and did not recognize were etched at the front of the stone slabs. They were gravestones. She whirled around, looking for a path that would take her away, but found the same rows and columns of gravestones on the ground far below.
Leaving her without another option, she screamed. But no sound came.
There was a scream.
"Moira, dear!" There was surprise and worry in the voice that spoke. "It's just a dream! Calm down!"
Moira realised it must be her who screamed. She stop herself silent as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. She saw a white ceiling, bright flourescent lights glowed behind frosted glass.
She felt cold. She must be glistening with sweat.
A face crowded her view, a face of a woman much like her own. Only her eyes were light brown. Her eyebrows were drawn in worry.
"Are you okay, dear?"
"Water." Her voice was dry and hoarse.
As she tried to sit up, she felt an unfamiliar stingy pain from her left hand. She saw a needle connected to a thin, transparent tube.
Blood ran through it.
She didn't have to look around to know where she was. "Am I--"
The woman handed her a glass of water and leaned back. "Yes."
As she gulped the water, a pain raced through the side of her neck. She lowered the glass as her needled hand found its way to the bandage at her neck.
"You could have died, you know. The doctors said you lost too much blood. The wound had severed a vein! They had to stitch you!" The woman looked even more worried. But there was kindness in her eyes, as it had always been. "But you are okay now, darling. I'm here." She placed a careful hand on Moira's cheek, an assuring gesture. It was something she did whenever Moira felt bothered or hurt.
"Mom, I--"
"Hush, darling. Save your strength. Your brothers are coming. They insisted that Felix bring them with him." She smiled, but the worriness did not leave her face when she took the glass from Moira's hand and placed it over the bedside table.
To Moira's left was a rectangular window, curtains hang over them. There was a narrow table. On it was a vase that held flowers.
Chrysanthemums.
Moira had always loved mums. Her mother must have placed them there.
"How are you feeling?" Her mother faced her again.
"I think I'm fine." Moira's eyebrows creased. "But I don't remember much of what happened. Well, at least after I lost consciousness."
"The police are taking care of it, dear. Good thing two beautiful boys had given concern and brought you here. Good of them to wait until I arrived to watch over you. Oh, how great God really is. You know, when I was..."
Two boys?
Moira's mind travelled back to the night before. She remembered waking up. She remembered muddy footprints. She remembered the hallway and the elevator, even the blacked out 25th floor.
But she could not remember any boys. Or any person. She could not remember how she got the wound on her neck.
"Mom," she began.
Her mother stopped talking and looked at her. "Yes, dear?"
"How did I get the wound on my neck?"
"Oh." For a moment, her mother had no words to spare. "I thought you knew."
"I don't... remember."
Her mother fixed the blanket over her legs even though there was no fixing needed. "The doctors did not say anything about a concussion. Do you remember hitting your head?"
Moira shook her head.
"Very well, I'll talk to your doctors again once your brothers have arrived. For now, rest." She smiled again. "It's still early in the morning. The sun is merely out of its hiding. I don't even expect them to be up from their beds." She supressed a laugh.
"Okay."
