Word Count: 2039
~Avila
I settle into my seat, looking at the two unfamiliar people sitting before me.
Roel has called them in to gather information on me. It's in the pursuit of finding out why this has happened to me.
I've been told I can back out of this at any moment. Still, I'm nervous.
What if something bad is uncovered?
"Thank you for speaking with us today, Avila. This is an interesting case," Marie, the female researcher says with a pinched smile. The others introduced themselves to me as Jeremy.
"Can you help me find out how this happened?" I ask, clutching the arms of the chair as if I might fall off.
"We are hoping to." Marie exchanges a look with her colleague. "We have been told that you are experiencing different tastes in foods, different interests etc since coming back to life."
I swallow past the dryness in my throat. The term 'come back to life' is a little daunting to think about.
I mean, is that really what happened? Was I ever dead?
"I have flashbacks of being good at art, and yet I try now and I'm miserable," I explain to them. "I hate all the food I used to like, and people tell me I was mean and yet I don't feel the need to be that way."
"Interesting," Jeremy murmurs.
They both scribble all this down on their notepads. Roel claims he trusts them, that they won't share this information with the public.
"So you have flashbacks often?" Marie asks.
I nod. "Sometimes."
"Nightmares?"
"No."
At night, my mind is blank. When I sleep, I tumble into an endless void of inescapable darkness. It's disconcerting, actually.
"Anything trigger these flashbacks?" Jeremy asks, looking between me and his notepad.
"No. They are random and quite vivid."
It's almost impossible to explain to someone who isn't experiencing them. I'm not going to bother trying, because by the looks on these people's faces, they think I'm strange enough.
I mean, I offered to sit with them in the formal living room, but they immediately shook their heads, asking for an office, like they wanted to put a whole desk between them and I.
"When you woke up in the tomb, what did it feel like?" I'm asked.
"I felt like I was waking from a normal sleep." I haven't thought much about that day since it happened. "Like a sleep where I was laying in a weird position all night and was stiff when I woke."
They take a few moments to write that down, like it's the most interesting thing they've heard all year.
"So you had no perception of time?"
I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, thinking. "I don't think so. It's hard to understand time when you can't remember the last time you were awake. You just know at some point, you were."
"And you have absolutely no memory?"
"None."
They look at each other again, and I swear one of them nods. I frown, trying to gather as much information from their expressions as I can, but they conceal what they are thinking expertly.
"If we are unable to find an answer for how this happened, will you be satisfied?" Marie asks carefully.
"I...I don't know. I'm scared of that," I admit.
What is more daunting? Finding out the truth is something gruesome and disturbing that will change how everyone will view me, or never know why this has happened to me? I'm not sure...
"It may be what happens," Jeremy adds, his features softening. "We don't want to say this is a miracle, but there may not be a plausible explanation."
Shaking my head, I plant my feet firmer onto the floor to ground myself. I can't accept that...I won't. Nothing happens for no reason, it just doesn't.
There's always an explanation for everything.
"I have to know. I need to make sense of this," I tell them. I don't mean for my voice to start rising, but I can't help it. Frustration has dug underneath my skin, urging on every word.
"That may be hard to do, Princess," Marie says uneasily, gathering her notes.
"I need answers," I insist.
They can't be leaving already. They've barely asked me anything, like their purpose wasn't actually to ascertain anything new from my experience, but to tell me they have already given up on finding answers.
"I think we are done here." Marie stuffs her notes into a briefcase, then grabs Jeremy's. "The Princess needs her space."
Jeremy nods, avoiding eye contact as he scrambles up, obeying what must be his superior.
"You're not telling me something," I'm almost shouting at this point. "What do you know?"
"Have a good day, ma'am." They practically run out the door, rushing off down the hallway like I might chase them.
I don't. I just watch them go, slumped against the doorframe.
This must be Crimson's doing. She must have intercepted them before coming in and told them to keep something from me. I have no evidence of that, but Roel wouldn't do it. He's committed to helping me.
It must be her.
My hands ball up into fists as I storm down the hallway. Roel will be in his office, and Crimson will be lurking nearby, but I don't want to see them.
I want to see Vade, but he's elsewhere, working on business as per my father's instructions, who himself has returned back to business far away.
I make it to my room, slamming the door closed. The foundation of the house seems to shake, but I hardly care as I sit on the edge of my bed, clenching my jaw at a spark of pain growing between my temples.
No. Not another flashback. I can't handle it right now.
No matter how hard I fight it, I lose all control of my body as it slides down the bed, my backside hitting the floor. My vision starts to fade, and I'm transported into the depths of my mind.
Suddenly I'm back to standing in my room, although the furnishings look different, and it's dark outside.
I'm pacing, anxious about something.
A knock sounds at the door not much later.
The past me opens the door, facing Vade. I grab the sleeve of his shirt and yank him into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
I'm always taken aback seeing Vade from prior to my death. He looks so different. He has far less muscle, his shoulders seem slumped and his skin sallow. He's worked on himself so much to get through his grief.
"You came." I sound surprised, stepping back to put some distance between me and Vade.
He rubs his hands through his much shorter hair than I remember. "Everything okay?"
"Only if you help me," I say, my voice hushed. Am I hiding something? Are there people lurking around that I'm afraid will overhear?
"What is it this time?" Vade folds his arms over his chest, looking unimpressed.
Despite being obviously irritated at being dragged here at such a late hour, he's come here, and he's clearly hopeful.
Me dying stamped out all that hope from him. He no longer has any desire to appease me now.
"Don't be so pouty, it's lame," I mutter, pushing at his chest. "You love making me happy, don't you?"
His jaw tightens. "Don't you have someone else to fuck around?"
I feel my head shake. Clearly I'm doing that horrible thing when I seduce him for my own gain. Question is, is it going to work this time?
"Mmm. To fuck maybe...but not to fuck around." I draw closer to him, resting my palms on his chests. This flashback feels so real, like I can actually smell his familiar scent, like I can feel the fabric beneath my hands.
Vade swallows. "I don't want to play around."
"Who says I'm playing?" I pout. "I want your body."
I draw my hands down him. Down his stomach and to his hips. I yank him closer to me, so his body is pressed flush against mine. My vision doesn't seem to shift from his lips.
"No you don't," Vade exclaims breathily, although I can tell by his tone that his resolve is slipping.
"I never said you weren't sexy. I just don't want to be forced to marry you," I hear myself say, reaching up to brush my fingers along the side of his face.
A strange feeling skitters across my skin that I can feel even through the flashback. It almost feels like electricity, like sparks. Vade doesn't seem to notice, or doesn't react. Neither do I.
It feels like I should know where that comes from, yet strangely enough, I can't pinpoint what in my lost memory that relates to.
"Come Av...what do you want?" Vade exasperates, although he doesn't pull away.
I lean up on my tiptoes and suddenly I'm kissing him.
He immediately reacts, shifting his hands to cup my face, deepening the kiss like he's a starving man who's been waiting for this for a long time.
My hands delve into his thick hair, tugging on it slightly. He groans, grasping my hips before turning me, pressing me against the door.
I smirk against his lips. "Mmm, you always give in to me."
It's impossible to tell through the haze of the memory whether I actually want this or not. Despite seeing through my own eyes, my feelings are just out of my reach.
Vade's body flattens against mine, pressing into me harder.
"Come on Vade, you'll help me won't you?" I breathe as he pulls away. He kisses down my jaw and to my neck, sweeping my hair back. His touch is rough and insistent.
"With what?" His teeth graze against my skin.
"Keep my mother away from my room in the morning. I'm going to be climbing through the window late and I don't need her asking questions," I murmur, tipping my head back, my eyes fluttering closed.
Vade tugs away abruptly, putting a couple feet of space between us. His hair is mussed and his eyes are wide, hurt.
"Seriously? You're using me so you can go out and fuck another guy?"
I hear myself sigh, adjusting my shirt before straightening, painting a seduction smile onto my lips.
"I'll suck your cock?"
His face screws up in disgust as he shakes his head. "This isn't a transaction. You're to be my wife."
I feel my expression fall. My tactic of seduction isn't going to get me what I want, and I can practically feel the gears in my mind shifting, deciding to default on an old tactic.
"You're a real loser, Vade. You're a coward, you're pathetic and you're going to be a horrible husband," I growl.
His expression softens. "Av..."
"You better tell my Kingdom they won't have an heir because you probably can't keep your dick hard enough to cum in me," I continue.
I search for a hint of regret within the memory, but there's nothing to decipher. Whatever I'm feeling, whatever my motivations are, they are hidden from me.
I'm just mean. I'm cruel and manipulative...
Vade swallows his emotion, shaking his head before he heads to the door. "I'm done with you."
"You'll come crawling back to me soon enough. Everyone does," I call out as he storms out, slamming the door behind him.
The intensity of the slam jolts me from the memory violently.
I'm lying on the floor, bent in an unnatural state. I force myself up before crawling to the adjoining bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before I'm vomiting profusely.
And for the rest of the day I sit like that, hunched over the toilet, contemplating my past self and whether I'm destined to become that again, until Roel eventually shows up and pulls me away.
But even he can't soothe my concerns.
I was a monster. And maybe I still am.
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