The Cure

Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

Dear reader,

Hi! My name is Stefania and I'm currently an English literature student at Mcgill University. This is my first piece of creative writing since high school (ie. five years ago, woahhhh) ! I hope you enjoy it! Thoughts and comments are always welcome. I'll try to post a chapter every 1 to 2 weeks :). I'm really excited about this piece and I know you will be too.

All rights reserved, ideas are oringial and my own. Property of Stefania Vetere, 2015.

Cover photo property of DS Sanchez http://dssanchez.format.com/work

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I'm spinning. At first it's pleasant, a gentle movement, mimicking my earliest memories of merry-go-rounds and lazy rivers. Dim lights flash around me, indicating my circular movement. Suddenly, I begin to go nauseatingly faster. I reach out to my sides, hoping to slow myself down, but realize that I am waving into an abyss. Panic begins
to set in. Where am I? I can't stop the spiraling; I've lost all control. Wind rushes into my ears, muffling the shrill screams that I immediately identify as my own. I muster the strength to look up and see the lights disappearing above me. I'm falling too. My stomach lurches, I'm going to be sick.

I jolt up and smash my head against something, before I begin dry heaving. Crap. I can't breath, my insides feel like they're collapsing as I gag uselessly, my body trying to rid itself of some nonexistent toxin. When I finally get a full breath in, I push my sweat-drenched hair away from my face. I look around, my eyes adjusting slowly to the dark surroundings. I still feel dizzy; my head pounds relentlessly as search what seems to be a crawl space. There is a blanket next to me; it is squished into a ball, no doubt from all of my tossing a turning. I carefully get onto my hands and knees, feeling around for any door handles. When I move the blanket's position shifts, revealing a line of light on the floor. I stick my fingers underneath and pull upwards. I'm weak and the door feels unusually heavy, but I manage to pry it open.

The light hits me like a brick wall. My head screams in protest and I moan as I rub my eyes, trying to acclimate myself to the sensory overload. I start to become aware of a thickening fog in my mind. Where the hell am I? I crawl out of the hole in the wall, closing the hatch behind me. I stumble when I try to get up, using the wall as a support. I notice that the crawl space is perfectly camouflaged with the rose-printed, pale yellow wallpaper. Why was I in there? I look around for a second time, the fog in my mind constantly clouding my view. I make out that I'm in a kitchen... I move towards the fridge. There are pictures of a family stuck onto it. In one, a young girl smiles widely, holding a medal. She has long chestnut brown hair, pulled up into a ponytail. Her hazel eyes sparkle in the sunlight. A tall handsome man, with the same gentle, hazel eyes has his arm around her. I can only assume, by his proud grin, that he is her father. Underneath the picture someone has scrawled

'Arabella, long distance running champion 2990 age 9'.

In the photograph next to it, a tall woman with cropped brown hair reads a book by a fireplace. She leans elegantly on the arm of a chair, her long legs resting on the other side of her. My confusion becomes overwhelming, I try to call out but my voice is too dry. I let out a weak cough as I open the fridge. All I find is four bottles of water I take one and open it. The cold liquid is a welcome relief to my soar throat and the fog in my head lifts momentarily. I realize that my tongue feels fuzzy and swollen... I drink more water, but my stomach begins to cramp and I'm forced to stop. Despite the returning cloud over my mind, I'm able to walk more assuredly now.

The windows in the adjoining rooms dimly light the hallway. From what I can tell, no one has lived here for a while. Dust has settled in a thick white blanket over the furniture. I shiver; I'm officially beginning to freak out. I stumble towards the counter in the kitchen, finding some fairly large cooking knives, sheathed in a wooden block. I take the largest one out and move as quietly as I can into the hallway. The floors creek eerily at every step, I curse under my breath. Suddenly, I see a figure moving in my peripheral vision. My heart begins to pound as I groggily turn to face the intruder with my weapon. To my surprise I realize that I'm staring into a full-length mirror. What's even more peculiar is that the girl staring back at me is the same one I saw in the pictures, only ten years older...