Authors: A.C. Warneke
She remembered feeling weak, almost defeated and then, she had felt a surge of power and everything changed. Her vision became sharper, clearer; she was able to see so much that she
had never noticed before. The colors had been so vivid, but that could have been because it was a dream. Something happened, her power coalesced around her; she could feel the wind as thousands of tiny wings rushed past her, but she didn’t know what they were. Pin pricks battered her back, her arms, but it hardly mattered anymore and then the scene shifted and the other woman was gone.
She remembered black eyes looking down at her from the most exquisite masculine face she had ever seen, black eyes that were normal; human. He had looked at her with such love tha
t it made her heart pound in her chest; she could feel his love for her in her soul. But she was only… she was only eighteen. Frowning, she tried to figure out if that was right. It seemed right, even if she had seemed older in her dream. Of course, that was because it was just a dream. Wasn’t it?
She closed her eyes for a moment, massaging her temples with the tips of her fingers. It didn’t make any sense; she was fairly certain she hadn’t been injured
and she wasn't sick and yet she was in a hospital. She was almost positive she had been sliced open and stung, but there were no stitches or bandages. And those two assumptions contradicted each other.
“I see you’ve finally decided to join the land of the living,” a kindly voice said to her right.
Turning her head, she saw a…a… nun looking at her chart. The door must have been well-oiled since she never heard it open. “You’ve been asleep for nearly a month, dearest. We were worried you’d never wake up.”
“Where am I?” she asked, her voice surprisingly clear considering she had been asleep for so long. Weren’t there supposed to be tubes in her throat, or something? It seemed as if there should have been a tube in her throat. Nothing made sense.
“St. Michael’s Charity Hospital in England,” the nun answered and the girl finally heard the British accent. “The gentleman who brought you in assured us you would wake up but then he quite disappeared. We haven’t seen him since though it appears he was correct; you have awakened.”
Half-listening to the woman, the girl ran her hand through her hair, surprised by how long it was. Grabbing a strand, she held it up and frowned
. If her guess was correct, it would hang past her waist. That wasn’t right but she wasn’t sure how it was wrong. Where was… where was… who? Why couldn’t she remember anything? With a grimace, she realized she had much bigger problems. Turning to the nurse, she tilted her head to the side and started to speak but nothing came out.
Moistening her lips, she cleared her throat and the most peculiar sensation filled her; the inside of her mouth, her neck… tingled. Wanting to experience it again, she cleared her throat once more, a smile
curving her lips. She brushed her fingers over her cheeks, surprised by how smooth her skin felt. Her hand trailed over her lips, which were plump, though perhaps a bit dry.
The hand continued its journey, over her firm breasts and sle
nder waist. It was a young body so it had to have been a dream. Not that the body in her dream was old but it was riper, more of a woman than a girl, if only by a few years. And her dream body had been… well loved. She could almost feel the pleasurable ache of… of…possession.
Her thoughts returned to the present and she looked at the nurse, the nun. Moistening her lips one more time, she asked in a raspy voice, “Wh… what’s my name? Who am I?”
Thank you for reading
Awakening
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