p r e y

chapter ten : a brainwashed kingdom

at first it never felt like a dream, yet there was something so sinister lurking in the background that gave the scene any excuse from being reality.

in fact, it seemed realer than reality as if she had slipped into an alternate timeline and was reliving the same moment.

it happened for two nights straight.

amelia's recollection of her dream started with the soft chimes of a metallic straw against the ceramic interior of a coffee mug. she didn't see who was stirring but neither did it seem out of place.

if anything it added to the atmosphere of the lounging area.

it was a lovely theatrical setup.

her part of the play starts with her sitting and placing her earphones in her ears. her salad was in front of her on the table.

a few of her coworkers filled in the seats around her and she stared at them all in confusion.

what's happening?

they offer greetings before mr. sandoval dives right into their conversation about who they think the company should invest in.

amelia neither greets them back nor did she resume her podcast. instead she just stares at mr. sandoval slow in humane chews of his sandwich; they almost seemed to move with the rhythm of the metal straw in the background.

they are having the same conversation they've had for what seems like eternities ago and it made the hairs on her arms stand on edge.

"mr. cavill was definitely aged if time for getting shares in that alaskan steel factory. he always knows best" one of her coworkers praised fondly.

'too scripted' amelia said switching her gaze to the brunette sitting across from mr. sandoval.

for some reason, none of them meet her gaze yet observing them more, she realized that they weren't really looking at anything. in fact, they all looked dazed.

upon noticing this, her eyebrows furrowed; the mid day's news came on and her focus switched.

'Derret's family business up in flames'

no, this happened monday...what day is it now

as the report read on, the chimes from the spoon rung out and the chatter in the lounge room continued loudly, she stood up frantically in confusion to rush to the bathroom.

the room quieted, silence as burdensome as a tonne or feathers , and everyone's eyes fell on her.

she was about to rush from her seat when a thought struck her. why was she rushing to the bathroom?
she wasn't queasy.

slowly and reluctantly she sat again, and the play continued with no one paying attention to the news.

she was sick before because she felt guilt, but now looking at the report she realized she didn't feel sick at all. nor did she feel guilty.

but why would i feel guilty? who's mr.derret again?

her thoughts echoing against a nothingness in her brain. his name felt familiar on her tongue and when she thought of his name her body went rigid and fear overtook her.

but she couldn't think of why.

her hands gripped the table as her eyes flickered between everyone and she suppressed the building panic inside her.

why had everyone stopped to look at her like that?

out of character

she felt like she heard someone mumble something in her head before feeling a sharp pinch to her temple's nerves.