She awoke slowly, uncomfortable and cold. A cold deep in her bones and the pit of her stomach. It was wrong. Like something was missing but nothing she could find a name for.

She slowly pried open her eyes. It felt like they had been plastered shut, unwilling to twitch. When she managed to force them open, the light felt as though it had seared her straight to her brain. She snapped them closed, shuttering out the pain that had come with the light.

When she attempted to move her arm it lit up her whole body with a burning pain that did nothing to chase the cold away. She gasped in response.

The noise she’d made had been pitiful, a scratched-out burst of air. Her throat was too dry to do anything more, but it had been enough. A banging noise came from beside her as something was thrown – probably a door – and hit stone with crack.

If she’d had any strength, she’d have flinched away, but as it stood, she couldn’t twitch so much as a finger.

“Cecelia? Are you awake?” The voice was deep, low, and frantic sound that reached above a whisper. She couldn’t understand the question, her ears still ringing from the noise.

“Cecelia?” The voice was calmer this time, some of the energy had bled out of it. She didn’t respond, even the thought of attempting to speak was too much. The name meant nothing to her, and she had to wonder if he meant her at all.

In the silence that followed, she heard a sigh so heavy and defeated that she wanted to reach out. What made him sound so hopeless? A moment later she heard the groan of wood from a heavy weight. It sounded so close, right next to her head. A beat passed, then he broke the silence again.

“You aren’t going to wake up, are you? I watch over you, care for you, day in and day out. I haven’t been at work for months. The others tell me that it’s fine, that this is more important, and I agree, but,” He trailed off, lapsing into a silence that hung heavy around her.

“Is this a waste? Should I have had someone to take you away? To be cared for till your death? Should I do it now? I wish you could answer me, Cecelia.

“I can hear it almost, your biting reply. But I can’t really, not anymore. I don’t remember how you sounded, and I can’t picture you as you once were.” After another moment the groan sounded again, it must have been a chair. She could hear the soft steps leading away from her.

She had no choice; this was her only chance. She peeled her lips open and let out the only noise she could, a croak that strained her throat near to breaking. But it was enough, the footsteps stalled, before coming back in a rush. Something landed on her arm.

His hand. He was touching her arm.

“Cecelia? You are awake,” his voice was quiet now, closer to a whisper. Again, she forced herself to make a noise, anything to respond to him, to get him to realize that she was. A short, choked laugh followed.

“Did you do that on purpose? Allow me to make a fool of myself? Is that your revenge?” His tone had sharpened, cutting at her. She couldn’t respond in any real way. Instead, she forced her eyes open again, allowing the pain to pierce her once more, and rolling her head towards him.

When her eyes adjusted, she realized room was much darker than she’d first thought. A dim warm yellow glow came from behind her, painting the man’s face. The back of her mind itched as she tried to figure him out, his brown skin and sharp angles were filled with more shadow in the poor light than not. But she knew that even if she could see him properly, she would not recognize him.

He was a stranger.

​

To be continued...