I could see silver-grained rings curl into my prison. White light flowed as if eons of time had danced upon the strings of a melancholic harp. Buds of roses meant to grow into young maidens bid adieu to life. The sunlight was reluctant to reach me, as if I were cursed.

All I could see was blood and flashes of a strange yet familiar light in my vision, and I wondered why life had still clung to me, a ‘sleeping beauty’ defeated by ill fate− not a single part of mine remained where it didn’t hurt.

A sudden jerk.

Muffled words.

I could now see figures through my blurry eyes.

Looking down, I saw myself in a hospital gown, blue cotton draped over my now feeble body as a drip lay connected to my forearm. A cold hue luminated the private room I was staying in, and an ominous feeling gripped the back of my mind− one that I couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“…she’s my child. I’ll take care of her,” I heard my father plead.

“Oh please, Adam. Such sentimental crap is the reason why your father threw you out of the estate. As I have said previously, a Humphrey can’t be raised by a pauper. Out of respect for Elena, we didn’t−” spoke Aunt Heresa with a tinge of the usual self-regard laced in her voice.

“Please! Please…she’s the only one I have…”

Though still unable to see properly, I could make out a hint of sadness on the wonted stoic countenance of my aunt. Of course, it readjusted back no sooner than it did come.

“Well, we have helped you out this time because she is of our blood. However, if ever seen that you’re unfit to take care of her, that is, if such an incident occurs again− we’ll take her with us.” Away went the haughty woman with the click-clack of her heels, the movements quick enough to resemble the fickleness of her principles.

After taking in the peace and quiet that now lingered in the air, I spoke, my thoughts still abuzz with a million questions that rang in my ears like a persistent doorbell.

‘Where’s Anna? Is she okay? How much time has passed? Am I okay?’

“Papa.”

My father stopped in his tracks just as he was about to exit the room.

“Seph?” He turned around, and the moisture in his eyes reflected the current state of his mind− one filled with relief. He ran towards me in a fashion that spoke volumes of how much he had missed me, probably afraid of the possiblity that I’d return to the living corpse I had been for God knows how many days if another moment passed.

“Papa…what happened to me? And where’s Anna, ah− ” Before I could list the questions whose answers would satiate my burning curiosity, I felt a sharp pain course through my head.

“Seph, are you okay?”

“Yes, but− ” another shot of hurt spread through as I thought more and more about what happened that day.

“Don’t stress yourself, child. You have been in a coma for 3 months. The doctor said it would take a while for your mind and body to adapt.”

“What− w-what about Anna? Is she fine? Please, Papa, tell me she’s okay,” I practically begged my father for answers. What if Anna− no, no, no…that’s ridiculous…that can’t happen.

“Do you not remember anything?” asked my tense father as he looked into my eyes, still trying to gauge the level of my physical health.

“No, Papa…I don’t remember anything at all. Except for flashes of light…and blood. Did we get into an accident?”

“That’s okay. I’m sure you’ll remember on your own. Forcing an…unpleasant memory, isn’t any good right now. Rest well, Seph,” He left the room, while leaving in his wake a string of uncertainties that constantly pricked me.

‘Where are you, Anna?’