I can’t
breathe.
“Really? Is this…real?” She finally gasped sharply with wide eyes.
“Yes. I want to have children with you. I want to have a big family, and I
won’t mind if they’re not sons,” He said with a smile.
But she missed it. Something crucial. Something that could have warned her. But
ignorance be bliss upon us all. I can’t breathe.
“Oh! I can’t breathe! I’m so happy!” Her fingers twittered over her mouth and
flushed face.
“It does?”
“Yes, it does! I was so worried, so worried, that you regretted marrying me!”
I can’t breathe.
“You’re right. I do regret marrying you.”
“What?”
I can’t breathe.
She was struck double. Wham. I can’t breathe. His hands down seized her, the
air blown out of her chest, his fists shooting like a skulking python
unleashing on its prey and slammed blunted power enough to earn a delicious
snap of her collar bone.
Splash. I sputtered. I could taste the sweet, syrupy maple-coated copper
eructed from a punctured wound.
My fingers clawed, the instinct automatic and required no thought. My body, my
nerves, my endings screeched and clanged their alarms but my mind seemed
swathed in cushiony, devilish disbelief pretending to not understand their
language. Like some foreign thing, like some nonsense and hysteria, locking
itself and going about its merry way and ignoring some traveling cultists
chasing at your heels.
I can’t breathe. I tried to. The honeyed salt swashed from my tongue by chips
of ice and chunks of pond. I tried to breathe. Another blow, this time the
snake sunk its clawed scales around her neck.
“I regret marrying you. Your docile and serene disposition, your smile, your
eyes, your throat…I wanted to pluck them out from the start. Pluck them out and
hang you out for my crows. I hated you looking at me. I hated you smiling at
me. I wanted to strangle you dead. You need to die. You don’t belong here. You
don’t exist. You shouldn’t exist. A leech is destined to die.”
To the very end, all those five years. He never once said “please.” How could
she miss the not-so-veiled abhorrence and disgust rolling around in his eye
sockets like a starving, circling vulture?
I’m drifting. It’s cold, freezing. Wet. Why is it so wet…?
I can’t breathe.
I’m reaching out my hands. Why aren’t they moving? I feel hands…but they’re
wrapped around my neck. They’re hurting me. My legs are kicking so hard but I
can’t tell if there’s a ground. Wrapped in layers of wet silk; it’s so heavy.
My bones are being squeezed in the jaws of this soaked prison, but my chest is
on fire. It’s burning, and I can’t put it out.
I can’t breathe. It’s deeper.
“Your father was also in agreement. You were a burden; a money-sucking bag not
even worth the salt in your rotten eggs.”
My eyes open, and I see it. I see it, a shroud, a silhouette, a manifestation
of shadow and despair. What was once a vision of light and bright was now the
extension of the worst agony and desolation that shredded faith and spirit like
a bird in the vicious jaws of a jackal. This shadow is the truth revealed of
man. Of this particular, special, haunting man who grips my path to speak, to
breath, to live. The glare of a simple ring who made him king to my queen
laughs at me.
Snap.
“Well, that was pleasantly pathetic. No matter where you go, you are destined
to die like the unasked-for virus you are. I hope I get to kill you again.
Dear. Stupid. Wife.”
I’m falling. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. The mob of lake water stings as it
cackles to log my lungs, aiming to burst the fragile organs, spears of ice
laced with aphrodisiac for death, and chanting the songs of my miserable
demise.
‘He has broken your neck, dear lady!’ They sing.
‘He has broken your heart, dear lady!’ They laugh.
‘He has broken your spirit, dear lady!’ They snicker.
‘Your husband never wanted you, cold lady!’ They uproared.
‘Your husband hated you, cold lady!’ They twirled.
‘Your husband killed you, stupid lady!’ They ruptured apart to bleed my lungs
in rapture.
‘He hurt you, he broke your bones, he burned you, he pushed you down the
stairs, and still you lived. You stupid lady. You stupid lady!’
The darkness doesn’t come quickly. Even the darkness avoids me. Relief is not a
right, and it is not mine to have. The descent is slow, painful, and painful.
But at least it no longer burns. At least I no longer feel the hands of
unfeeling cruelty. At least I no longer feel the rap of glass bottles. At least
I no longer have to see the cheer from the circle of imprisonment hysterical on
his finger.
At least…
It no longer…
…no more…
…end…
…am I free…?
-*-
“…nise…”
What…? Who’s that…?
“…an…me…!”
I just want to sleep…I hate being awake. I just don’t want to be awake. Please,
I’m so tired. I don’t want to be awake…there’s no pain…
“…please…up…!”
What language is that…? And why can I understand it?
“RYUNISE!!”
Her eyes and mouth ripped open and her lungs nearly blasted wide, the chasm
close to fracturing with the sudden crash of oxygen. It was as if she was being
strangled by the weight of the world and it finally released its lethal
pressure. Stranads of burnt auburn whipped in a windy rush, her skin drenched
cold with thick sweat, and her nerves on frozen fire.
“Oh gods! Lady Ryunise, Lady Ryunise…!!” An older woman, maybe in her young
50’s, sobbed and grabbed hold of her. For some reason the simple movement made
her bones crick.
She grimaced and whimpered. Why does it hurt so bad?
“What…what’s going on? What happened…?”
A man came into view. She tried to squint, but her eye sight was blurred, as if
a fog had blown weirdly over glass windows. She could make out brown hair as if
sanded down, and green orbs…? Perhaps they’re eyes? There are other people in
the room she could feel, but they were all blobs of shadows in the background
framed by what looked like fabric curtains of shocking cobalt blue.
“Why can’t I see? Who are you…two…all of you?”
Silence met her at the front. She frowned a bit, “…did I say something wrong?”
“D…dear…” Another woman spoke softly, rounded a little low in sadness and what
was akin to damp devastation, “She…she…Nise, our Nise…”
“Not to worry, Wife. Anji, it’s all right, don’t cry…” The man comforted with a
tender tone.
The girl began to fret, the nervousness tingling about her throat and chasing
down to her heart, “N…Nise…is my name?”
“My Esteemed Lord and Lady Emerodelle, a momentary lapse in memory is quite
common for one who has been afflicted with Dark Sleep…” Another man spoke. It
was a sympathetic, soothing and expertly traditional.
“Dark…sleep?” ‘Nise’ asked. He must be a doctor.
“My Lady Ryunise,” He spoke, approaching her after a bow at the waist, and
touched her hand. It was awfully thin in his calloused ones, “Dark Sleep, it’s
a form of coma, but in this case, it is caused by something unknown. Your body
is asleep, but your soul is absent and leaves a void. Hence ‘Dark Sleep.’”
“Ryu…nise…?” She spoke slowly. The word tasted foreign in her mouth.
“Yes. That is your name. Do you know where you are?”
‘Nise’ or Ryunise, shook her head. It was a little difficult with her neck so
stiff and her hair a wilding mess. Her ears could pick up other soft sobbing in
the background, but were stifled and far away, “A bed?”
Silence again, more like confused silence.
“Well…yes, that’s correct. You are in a bed, My Lady. Do you know anything
else?”
“Other than you being a doctor and being dizzy, no…”
Something pressed to her hand. She squinted closer and recognized it was a cup
with water. Her mouth instantly dried up, or it was dry already and she didn’t
realize, and she quickly knocked back with shaky fingers. It seemed to clear
her mind a bit, and she paused.
“My Lady?”
“I remembered something…I was…wet, in water…”
“Yes. You had fallen into a lake from a very high ledge.”
“I was drowning…being drowned…someone was holding me…holding me under…”
The room tersely bristled.
“Someone was drowning you? Who, who, my daughter?!” The first man gripped her
shoulders, and she whimpered.
“Dear, Marcaes, be gentle with her!” The woman unwound her…husband’s fingers,
and she apologized. The man – Marcaes – retreated away on booted feet, “I’m
sorry, Nise. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. Shouldn’t she get some rest, Doctor
Ramuol?”
“Yes. I will conduct vitals and give her a little bit of herbal supplements to
help relax her.” Doctor Ramuol inclined his head.
There was shuffling about the room, a kind touch from two sets of hands, then
the sound of a very heavy, thick wooden door closing with a soft ka-thunk a
moment later. Ryunise and Doctor Ramuol was left in the room. She rubbed at her
eyes and now becoming more aware and increasingly uncomfortable her eyes were
stubbornly being.
“Don’t scratch at them, My Lady.”
“I can’t help it, I don’t like being able to not see. And my name…I don’t
recognize it,” She puffed just slightly.
“My, I wonder if you have always been this spirited? Ho ho,” He chuckled, “As
for your name, you will remember.”
The Doctor guided her hand and opened it, putting in two oval objects that felt
a little powdery and chalky. Automatically she felt her face scrunch up.
“What are these?”
“They’re the herbal supplements made of Lalibell and
Chamoleaflets.”
“What?”
“Lalibell will help to sooth the anxiousness you feel and the Chamoleaflets
will ease the mind. I prefer them as tea myself, but we’ll hold back anything
too hot or cold for you. It might shock your body and have negative effects.”
Ryunise was wordless, her head feeling like feathers immobilized in cotton. She
gauged the atmosphere, the people she had met so far, as well as the luxurious
feel touching along her body of the bed and clothes. Vaguely it almost sounded
like he was talking about lavender flowers and chamomile. How did she know
that?
“All right,” And she swallowed them along with more water. There was a
lingering sweet taste tracing a path down her throat, and somehow needing and
ultimately gagging on a reflex.
Doctor Ramoul softly laughed, “Glad to see your
less-than-fondness for medicine has not changed, Milady.”
Ryunise laid her head back and felt her muscles unwinding. There were knots and
kinks in places she’s never experienced before, but the medicine seemed to be
reliable in setting them all free one by one. Soon enough her eyes drooped and
then closed.
Why do I feel so small…?
“When you wake, you’ll have answers. I believe in the Gods’ Goddess.”
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