I opened my eyes, examining the room around me. Any hope I had left was torn into pieces. This was going to be my life now. The door creaked open, and the boy slipped in. What was his name again? Zilan? He had a bitter-sweet smile on his face. I dragged myself up onto my elbows, getting a closer look at his face. His hair was a dark brown, and I noticed something wrong with his left pupil.
He laughed.
"I guess you really did lose all your memories," he rubbed his neck sheepishly. "You want to get a closer look?" He leaned forward, tilting his head to show me his left eye. He had no pupil. His left eye was a mess of random colors, and nothing in the middle. "Yes, in case your wondering, I can see through this eye."
"But that's not possible," I muttered, pushing myself to my feet. He pulled away, and his eye returned to its normal shade of brown. Both his eyes were normal now.
Zilan cackled, winking at me. Both his eyes disappeared, replaced with skin. I screamed, throwing a pillow at his face.
What the hell?
Was I transported to an anime? Or perhaps a Fantasy novel? I touched my hair, unbelieving. It was still a light blue. I blinked, and Zilan's eyes were back to brown.
"I can change my appearance," he explained casually. "That's my hidden power." His left eye returned to the mix of colors. "This is my true form," he said, spinning in a circle dramatically and pointing to his left eye. "No scars, no weird hair colors. Just an odd eye."
I gripped my stomach, filled with the sudden urge to puke. Could I be the protagonist in this story? Excitement and horror twisted my insides into knots.
"Does this mean I'll get some sort of crazy power as well?"
He shook his head, handing me a cup of water. I sipped first, making sure it was just water and not some sort of magical concoction.
"Not all Jem's acquire an ability. Even fewer get a useful one. I know a guy that can hold his breath for up to forty minutes. Not the most useful in battle."
I spit out the water, and it splattered across his elegant robe. I didn't care.
"There are battles?" I choked. "People fight here?"
"Not usually. Most of the time it's for sport. Other times it's to ward off different types of dark souls."
"What?" Dark souls? I gripped the blankets, wishing I could just go home.
He sighed as if I was the dumbest person he's ever met.
"I'm not sure you want to know," he said bitterly. "I'll explain it to you another time. You've already had enough shock in the last few days."
Last few days?
"How long was I sleeping?" I asked, confused.
"Around sixty hours. The doctor said we should let you rest in a quiet room while your concussion heals."
He reached over and pecked me on the cheek.
"You might not remember me, but I'll always remember you. Love you." He walked out, closing the door behind him. Placing the water down onto the table, I moved out of bed. I sat down at a table, examining my face in the copper mirror. The only difference was my hair. I touched it, still shocked.
I tried to stop the tears, but they were pouring out- and I couldn't stop it. I wiped at my tears furiously.
Stay strong, my mother would've said. If she were here, she would hug me tightly and whisper sweet assurances.
"Don't let your past define your future," she would insist. "Stay strong. It'll all be over soon." I touched my face, trying to unsee my mother's face in mine.
She's gone, I reminded myself. Don't hold onto the past. I banged my fist on the table, frustrated. A porcelain glass shuddered and crashed to the floor, only adding more noise to the chaos in my head. She was all I had. I leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling.
Was this god's way of giving me a second chance? A second life? My fists tighten around my dress. Did he influence my mother's death? Chills ran down my spine, and I fought to keep my emotions in check. Rubbed my sore neck, avoiding the mirror to prevent looking at my hair and causing another panic attack. The door creaked open, and the older woman stepped inside.
"I know the doctor said to leave you alone, but I wanted to talk to you." I turned away, not in the mood to chat. She knelt down beside me, her eyes kind.