❛Is Everything Just as I Remember It...?, part 1❜

ㅤ MAËLLE

 ㅤ After that night out in New York, I thought what I had seen was just a result of the drugs. The intense fatigue and headache I’m feeling now are as if that day were happening all over again.

ㅤ If Eloise were here with me, we could figure this out together. Or, more likely, she’d figure it all out on her own, as always. Maybe the solution is a psychiatrist. Maybe I could ask the town priest to give me a blessing. Maybe I’ll do both, considering my current state.

ㅤ When I woke up this morning, I didn’t feel as cheerful as usual. Ever since Eloise drifted away from me, my world—which used to be perfectly balanced—is now out of whack. My bare foot touches the bedroom floor while I bury my face in my hands, as if that might ease the migraine.

ㅤ What's happening to me?

ㅤ I know who I am.

ㅤ “I’m Maëlle… Maëlle de Rohan.” The words come out as if I were savoring them. Testing to see if they sound true. If they convince me. “I’m the only child of Hugon de Rohan… No. It’s Beaurepaire-Rohan. Hugon de Beaurepaire-Rohan. Why am I always shortening it? It’s my own damn last name. What’s wrong with me?”

ㅤ My name is engraved on the bedroom door. This was supposed to be my bedroom before the wedding, but the more I look around, the more unfamiliar it feels to me. Through the window, the garden still looks familiar, as does the house as seen from the outside. So why does everything seem so different at the same time?

ㅤ It’s the same color. The color of the house where I grew up stretches along the long hallway as soon as I step out of my room. It’s a sunny morning outside, but the sky isn’t the same. I fell asleep yesterday… How long did I sleep?

ㅤ The bathroom around me makes me feel as if I were sinking into a dream. And all this silence always stirs a sense that something is missing.

ㅤ I miss it. That's all my mind can keep repeating.

ㅤ What's the date today?

ㅤ My phone screen lights up. The date appears, and I furrow my brow. At this time, I should be exchanging witty barbs with Thérèse. I close my eyes and can picture us in a Parisian café, where the conversation is punctuated by fake smiles. So invigorating.

ㅤ I cup my hands and splash cold water on my face. My reflection appears in the mirror, and the subject I’ve been avoiding comes back to the surface. She looked just like me. I meet my own eyes, searching for some answer deep within my irises. Anything that explains how all of this began. Anything that tells me how to make it stop.

ㅤ I swallow hard. Something tightens in my chest. That was me.

ㅤ I blink a few times. A burning sensation starts on one side of my nose. I grimace as I feel the pressure between my eyes, accompanied by a strong smell of rust. Before I can react, a trickle of blood runs down my nostrils. My eyes widen in despair.

ㅤ “Mom!” The muffled cry echoes down the hallway. My father appears in the office doorway, concern etched on his face. Suddenly, a commotion breaks out faster than I can process it. For the first time since I returned from the woods, I hear something other than the voice of my own thoughts.

ㅤ Lyès, the butler, appears wearing gloves, holding a soft-bristled brush in one hand and a silver polisher in the other. He sets the items aside immediately. “I’ll call a doctor. Keep her head down.”

ㅤ A handkerchief embroidered with the family crest is pressed against my nose to stop the bleeding. The fluid running down my throat tastes metallic and salty, making me feel nauseous. It doesn’t hurt, but the dizziness isn’t very reassuring. The more I try to hold back my tears, the more they flow.

ㅤ I think that, all this time, I just needed a reason to break down. The image of Eloise in her hospital bed floods my mind, and I realize that the painful tightness in my chest is my body’s way of showing just how much this affects me.

ㅤ My mother gasps on the bottom step of the staircase, “For God’s sake, Hugon… What’s going on here? I can hear screams coming from the garden.”

ㅤ My dad doesn't need to answer. As soon as my mom sees me crying, she reaches out to comfort me.

ㅤ Aside from complete silence, there is nothing else inside me. No anger. No fear or anguish either.

ㅤ Nothing.

ㅤ Then, all of a sudden, as if I had just surfaced from the bottom of a pool, I become aware of the conversation next to me.

ㅤ Dr. Eliseu Marins, the family’s trusted doctor, arrived accompanied by a nurse. He shines a small light into one of my eyes while the nurse checks my blood pressure. The nasal packs are uncomfortable, but they don’t actually hurt.

ㅤ A long silence is broken, and finally the doctor explains, “It’s nothing serious. It looks like an anterior epistaxis. We’ll stop the bleeding and keep an eye on her.”

ㅤ I see my father motioning him to a spot farther away from the bed. Even so, I can hear what the doctor is whispering: “There’s no obvious clinical cause. Her test results are normal. The only medical explanation I can offer is a hypertensive crisis caused by stress.”

ㅤ My father just nods. Dr. Marins repeats the gesture before coming back to stand near me. I clench the sheet, trying to hide my suspicion.

ㅤ “It’s important that you avoid blowing your nose, engaging in physical activity, or lowering your head. Over the next twenty-four hours, you may feel a slight burning sensation. I’m going to prescribe a healing nasal ointment.”

ㅤ The blood pressure monitor beeps, and I hear the nurse say that my blood pressure is perfectly normal.

ㅤ “I’ll leave you two alone. I hope you make a full recovery, Miss Rohan. Excuse me.” With the appointment over, Dr. Marins says his goodbyes. The door creaks as it closes, taking my parents, the doctor, and the nurse with it.

ㅤ Aleksei takes it all in silently, and I can see the wrinkles between his eyebrows. My voice comes out nasal, “I’m sorry… You had to quit your job because of me.”

ㅤ “Work can wait. How are you?”

ㅤ “I don’t know.”

ㅤ I shrug.

ㅤ “Marins might be right. What happened to Eloise has affected all of us, Maëlle... I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”

ㅤ I know that, one way or another, Eloise will find a way out of this. It’s part of who she is. The problem seems to run much deeper, but I can’t come up with a good explanation while this unbearable headache consumes me. It’s as if my skull were being scratched from all sides, throbbing relentlessly.

ㅤ I put my hand to my forehead and let out a grunt.

ㅤ Anything that comes out of my mouth right now is going to land me a nice stay in the psychiatric ward.