Agnostic Dreamer

Chapter 2 (Reworked)

Drowning. The state of inhaling anything besides the air you need to survive. How many days passed with my consciousness choking for mere mouthfuls of clarity? Shivering with every breath, I couldn't even scream before being pulled back below. Eventually I stopped trying. Maybe it's easier to grow gills at this point, or die trying.

Any moment my mind worked it's way above the waves, I couldn't make rhyme or reason of the distant shore. An unknown language; spoken by unknown people, all with hints of concern for an unknown child, that I now inhabited the vessel of. Once I finally stopped trying to grasp anything of outright use, I just succumbed to the rolling tides. Being fed by a maid, waking to a story being read, a doctor talking to a couple and bringing them to tears with a shake of his head. As their distorted forms danced to the beat of sounds I haven't heard in ages, a piercing chime rang out, signaling yet another instance spent above the abyss had ended.

Sputtering and coughing as a bit of gruel like substance entered the wrong pipe brought my mind to the forefront of cussing like a sailor once more. Well, it would've been that way if I wasn't hacking up a lung or two. Through bleary eyes, my glare towards the maid beside me went unnoticed as she began patting my back while saying something in that damnable concerned voice of hers. With my breathing returning to normal, I quickly waved away her hand while lying back down. Seeing as I had a good bit more agency this time around I blinked a few times to clear the gunk in my eyes and look at the woman properly.

A brunette bun, held over an angular face, adorned with brown eyes. Cute, or she would be without the French maid outfit. A scowl hit my lips before letting out an indifferent sigh signaling she could do as she pleased. Whether or not she noticed such I'm unsure. But since she already started making motions of getting ready to wipe me down before I gave such signals, odds are no.

She spoke in the gibberish language as she did so, and I just closed my eyes to try and take it in. I remember hearing someone, somewhere, say 'learning a new language would become second nature if dropped in a country that spoke it without any lifeline.' So I may as well try. Blah, blah, blaaaaah. Seriously, aren't brats supposed to learn languages easily or something? Ah, no wait! That one's useful! She uses it a lot while looking at me, lots of the people do around me. Whoever is clanging on the frickin' orchestral chimes needs to shut up, while I focus on what she's sa- Whoa, watch where you're touching woman, at least buy me dinner first!

With a quick slap, my face flowed down into my usual frown. She looked at me a bit confused as I had weakly attacked her hand, but my obvious displeasure got across. Thank whatever divinities still exist for nonverbal communication! Sadly, displeasure let known or not, she insisted. Damn woman, I don't even know me that well yet, what gives you the right to- stop dammit!

We tussled for a while over whether or not it was in fact, so damn important, and as this dragged on the door to the room opened. My mind immediately tried to process how threatening the individuals who entered were, which gave enough of a pause for the maid to strike. With a squeal escaping my lips at the sudden chill hitting my nethers, I stopped my resistance. What does it even matter, nothing matters, decency has never mattered! It's just a lie propagated by society!

What really mattered was who the hell this woman that entered is, and what she wanted. If my drifting memories are a hint, she's part of the couple who lost it earlier. That paired with the fact a maid is shadowing her, should mean she's somewhat important. Her bright red hair sat in an updo above a face with pale sunken features, which inturn made her emerald eyes shine anytime the light hit them. All this adorned a form, that from the small hints peeking out of her dress, would look wonderful on a catwalk, but nowhere else.

Her entrance brought a flurry of words directed in my direction as she rushed next to me, not closing her mouth to take a breath as she began to pet me like a damn cat. Struggling against her embrace proved to be futile, and I once more decided to lay motionless as she kept talking at me while treating me as a worry stone! Instead focusing on the words that left her mouth and the occasional words from the maid in response while trying to make some sort of sense of it all was more worthwhile. Oddly enough, everything seemed to click into place all at once. It felt like what everyone said beforehand was being distorted through something, and that filter got pushed away in an instant!

"-ried. I'm sure the doctor will give a different diagnosis after he sees you're awake again. Don't worry Sweetie, you're going to get better," the woman kept petting me all while repeating the same things over and over.

She did take the time to quickly order the maid that entered with her to grab her husband and send for the Doc. But I almost missed it with how fast she rambled. No idea how the maid grasped what she said, but she shot off nonetheless. Things quickly turned a good deal more hectic as the other half of the duo burst in the room to look me over. He was a stocky man with auburn hair coating his face and connected to a simple ponytail, while his eyes that looked me over for the slightest flaw were of a color which mirrored the woman who'd still hadn't let go of me. Through these two I was laid bare in ways even the maid had the decency not to do earlier.

It wasn't until the maid mentioned I was still fairly weak did they finally let me be. This resulted in me panting for breath after wearing myself out struggling, and failing, to get away.

These people are fucking insane! Who the hell moves a person who's obviously sick as if they're a damn doll to inspect dammit?! Actually, don't even do that to a person who isn't sick! What's wrong with them?!

My breathing wasn't able to calm before another person's entrance caused me to utter a defeated groan. He wore a gray... something. With my vision starting to blur from hyperventilating, I couldn't make out his features beyond he was a blurry, gray... person. My consciousness started fading a bit so the discussion of the people present came in and out like a radio with poor signal. Something about giving me another once over is all my mind could make out.

Forcing my lungs to expand through my darkening vision was about all I could do for a few moments as the voices completely faded. As my vision returned I found myself being propped up by someone, before being blinded by a light being shined in my eyes. I gasped out a few profanities that took a moment before they reached my ears, accompanied by an older man's voice asking me to look at his finger, not the light. One deep breath later, and I did as he'd asked. Following a slightly withered finger of a man giving me an eye exam.

As this continued the old man's voice asked a few questions after noticing me comply, I didn't have the answer to any of them so I remained silent. Yes, my mind was clearing. But even if you asked these questions before I woke up in this place, I couldn't answer a majority of them. I haven't known the exact date in ages. How old I am became a guessing game at some point, and no one's asked my name in so long I eventually forgot how it sounded. At my silence to his queries, the light eventually stopped shining, allowing me to properly view the man who'd been asking.

Yeah, he's just gray, from his robe, to his beard. The only part that wasn't happened to be the wrinkles on his face, and his head which had thinned out. A frown began to settle on that aged form.

"How about this, can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

One cocked brow, and a masterfully displayed usage of basic arithmetic later, I answered, "Thwi."

Oh god, I'm one of those brats!

"And now?"

"Fow-er," a grimace plastered my face at this declaration.

"And no-"

Cutting him off this time around, "Seh-vin."

"An-"

Before he could ask yet again, I put up my hand to cut him off. Placing my face against my palm, and taking a moment to try and figure out the disconnect this time. A few deep breaths accompanied by more than one instance of talking myself down in my head later, I lowered both my palms. With a big smile, I gave the Doctor a nonverbal go ahead to continue.

Thanks, I already hate everything about being alive again.