I don’t know where I am.
– “My name is Rosalite Clematis, and I am a villain. Whether I was born as such, or this world made me that way, it matters not. This is my role, and my burden.
If you are reading this, then I am dead.” –
A confusing letter, found in a small chest unlocked with the key on a chain around my neck. By logic, that would mean it is a letter that was left by me.
‘Rosalite Clematis’
The name gives me pause. It doesn’t fit, it isn’t right. It’s similar, but my name–
My name…
It’s like I’m fumbling in the dark, and no matter how desperately I claw through the nothingness I can’t grasp a hold of what should be there. I can’t remember my name.
My name isn’t Rosalite, but then… what is it?
I don’t know who I am.
It hasn’t been long since I woke, but the entire time from that point has been spent in a mixture of bafflement, confusion, and slight fear. A number of theories flitted through my mind earlier when I was greeted by an unfamiliar room, an unfamiliar sheet and an unfamiliar bed. Was I kidnapped? Was this some sort of practical joke? Am I dreaming?
Since then, I have come to the conclusion that I… do not know.
The letter doesn’t exactly help that fact.
“Oh, Rosie! My goodness, you’re awake?!”
The woman that suddenly enters the room is unfamiliar, I don’t know her at all, and yet – something tickles in the back of my mind, tugged to the surface by a thread so thin it feels like it could snap at any moment. Platinum hair with silver strands woven back in an elaborate braid, a polished face with fine lines in the powdered skin betraying her age. Her eyes are lighter than the sky but so, so frosty that a chill actually tremors down my spine as I meet her gaze. Marion— not Rosalite’s mother but someone who took that role without fulfilling all its accompanying duties. I don’t know her, so why is it that at the very sight of her resentment is beginning to bubble in my chest?
I open my mouth, words moving to the tip of my tongue of their own accord, but they don’t manage to pass my lips. It’s only now as I attempt to speak that I realise just how dry and awful my mouth and throat feel. My hand lifts, fingers brushing my throat subconsciously. Marion must think I’m hinting at her, because she suddenly fusses and spins on her heel, long skirts swishing around her ankles as she does so.
“You must be parched, dear. Let me fetch the maid, and inform your uncle of your awakening.”
She smiles at me as she leaves, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. If I weren’t watching her every movement, then I would have missed it dropping before she even leaves the room. Within a moment the only reminder
I don’t like her. I don’t think the original owner of this body did, either.
My hand drops back to the bed, something brushing against my fingers as they return to the soft blankets. My eyes flit over, catching sight of the letter. For some reason the thought of Marion finding it fills me with dread, so I quickly return it to its home in the small chest, locking it and tucking it beneath the corner of the bed, by the post.
I will have to examine the cryptic letter again later, when there are fewer watchful eyes.
Which brings me back to what Marion said before departing — maid?
This house has maids? Well, if I take a look around at the room I’m in and the luxury furniture and materials, then it isn’t so surprising. But still, there was hardly such a thing back where I’m from.
Though… now that I attempt to summon an image of where I’m from, I don’t seem to be able to.
I decide to ponder that later, because I can feel that the more I think about it, the more upset I’m going to get. Instead, I turn my focus to the strange woman that left as quickly as she entered. I’m unsure if I’m just on edge and overthinking things, but it was almost as though she was surprised to see me awake. As though she expected me to be in a deep unending slumber or something.
‘ … if you are reading this, then I am dead.’
Wait. If Marion was so surprised to see me — to see Rosalite, awake...
Something like recognition sparks in the back of my mind, but before I can dwell on it any further the doors to the room are bursting open once more.
“My dear Rosalite, it is true! You truly have awoken! Oh, my dear, we were ever so worried…”
Before I can ponder anything else, I have to deal with this.
...Whatever this is.
Comments (0)
See all