I wake up gasping for air, feeling the unbearable pain in my chest fade away. As soon as I rose up with shock, I fell back down in fatigue. A panicked voice tried to calm me and moved my weakened body into a more comfortable position.
Once my head touched the pillow, the woman rushes to the door and cries out, "The Young Miss! The Young Miss is awake!" I weakly frown at her odd behavior. As become slightly more aware, I turn my head to notice that I am in an unfamiliar room. I have been living in the Royal Palace for years and have long since come to the conclusion that no matter the room, all were to be unnecessarily and lavishly decorated. Therefore, I am completely positive that at this moment, I have no idea where I am. In the palace, rooms were decorated with fanciful-wallpaper and wastefully grand trimmings, while the room I am currently in is made of bare, grey stone. 'How refreshing.'
After a moment, the large wooden doors swing wide open and a thin, middle-aged man with flying silver hair and watery silver eyes comes rushing forward. "Lucy! You're awake!" With his arms out like he's about to fly, he leaps toward me. Instinctively, I want to move away, but with my body being so weak, I can only flinch.
Just as I was about to be crushed, the man was amazingly flung backward and exchanged with a smaller, younger, more handsome, or should I say a prettier version of himself. With a calmer, but equally elated tone, the boy exclaims, "Lucy, I'm happy you're awake."
I look around feeling confused with the whole situation. As I try to figure out why I was alive, I see the boy's relieved expression slowly turning into one filled with concern. 'It's probably because I have yet to utter one word since I've woken up.'
The middle-aged man moans as he gets back up then begins to laugh maniacally. My body tenses remembering my sister's cackling laughter as she was stabbing me. "You have some guts, boy. To push your father to the ground like that? I wonder where you learned that from? Was it from those damned soldiers of mine? Your teacher? Hmm?"
The young boy doesn't even respond to him as his focus is completely on me. "Lucy.. how are you feeling? Does it still hurt?"
Also ignoring the pouting man in the back, I take a moment before asking, "Pardon me... but who are you people?"
There was absolute silence. Well, sort of. Somehow, outside I can hear the sounds of crickets, leading me to assume that it's currently nighttime or early morning and in the background there seemed to be a fire crackling. I can see their heads processing what it was I just asked, but feeling a bit impatient, I pressed with, "When you say Lucy... are you referring to me?"
The warm room becomes a bit frosty. 'Ah. I feel a bit bad for asking this time.'
The middle-man rushes forward again. Pushing the young boy away, he grabs me with his amazingly large hands. "My sweet daughter!! Lucy, how could you forget your dear Papa! REPEAT AFTER ME, PAP-" Whack. Receiving a great punch to the face, the man falls once more.
Since what he just declared was nonsense, I can only think of one thing, 'Is this a comedy sketch?'
"Quit dreaming, old man! You never visited Lucy enough for her to call you that!" Turning back to me, the youth nods, "Don't worry Lucy, even if you lost your memories, your brother will help you. Now, can you say Big Brother Luca for m-"
From the sky, a large hand grabs the boy by the head, "You snot-nosed brat..."
As entertained as I am watching the two fight, I understand that if I were to get anywhere, it seems like I'm going to have to take charge. Clearing my throat, I say, "Excuse-"
'Wait... my voice.... it sounds weird. It's too high pitched. A bit like how those nasally-sounding women spoke with an annoying baby voice.'
"..me... Excuse me... excuse me? Ah. Ah. Ah.." I rub my throat and frown deeply. 'Why can't I change my voice back to normal?' Frantic, the maid asked me if I would like some water or tea. Without giving a second thought, I unconsciously respond with, "Some tea would be lovely."
She helps me sit up a bit. That's when I notice how tall the maid is.. 'Is the bed just that low?' She pours a cup of what smells like fragrant chamomile, then hands it to me. Weakly, I reach for it, but I notice another odd thing. 'My hand!' Falling through my fingers, the hot cup drops onto the fluffy, light-pink sheets.
Filled with panic the poor maid apologizes, "Oh my! Young miss! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!"
Unable to respond, I look at my trembling hands. 'They are so small.' The comedy duo goes frantic once more, but I pay no attention to them. My tired mind has reached its limit. I grab the silver platter at my bedside, shattering a perfectly good, rose-patterned teapot. Quickly, I hold it up to my face and scream.