The afternoon sun bathed a warm glow into Aurora's room, where she lay in her bed, her eyes closed shut in deep sleep. Beside her, watching her peaceful slumber, was her mother, who wore a worried expression on her slightly wrinkled features. Next to her was a man wearing glasses—a physician hired to check on Aurora.
"Still nothing?" she asked, watching the man as he examined her daughter. He shook his head and sighed, withdrawing his hand that held Aurora's wrist.
"Still can't find anything wrong with her," he stated, concern etched across his face.
Aurora's mother sighed, her worry deepening. "She's been like this for three days. I've never seen her so... still."
The physician adjusted his glasses, contemplating the situation. "I have run several tests, and all the results are inconclusive. It's as if she's in a deep slumber, but there's no apparent cause for it."
Aurora's mother glanced back at her daughter, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "Is there anything we can do?"
The physician hesitated, a furrow forming on his brow. "I'll consult with some colleagues, but for now, it's a perplexing mystery. Let her rest, and we'll see if there are any changes."
As they spoke, the door creaked open, and John cautiously entered the room his eyes were heavy with concern as she approached Aurora's bedside. "Any news?"
The physician shook his head, and Aurora's mother spoke with a mix of frustration and sadness. "Nothing yet. We're just hoping she wakes up soon."
Her father reached out to gently hold Aurora's hand. "We'll figure this out. She's strong."
Eleanor's eyes brimmed with tears as she stared at Aurora's motionless body. The sadness and grief she felt were almost too much to bear, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, trying to compose herself, but the sight of her daughter lying there was too much to take.
Just then she saw a faint movement in Aurora's hand. "John!" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. She fixed her gaze on the still figure, hoping and praying that the movement wasn't just a trick of the light.
"Hmm…" John hummed his response while gently stroking Aurora's hand.
Eleanor's eyes widened in shock as she saw Aurora's hand twitch again. "John!" she exclaimed, this time her voice trembling with excitement rather than grief. She shook her husband's shoulder, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Aurora moved! She moved, John! I saw it!"
John's eyes widened with hope as he turned his attention to their daughter. The physician, now alert, quickly moved closer to examine Aurora more intently.
Aurora's eyelids fluttered, and a soft moan escaped her lips. The physician carefully checked her vital signs, wearing a surprise expression. "This is unexpected. It seems like she's coming out of the slumber."
Eleanor couldn't hold back tears of relief as she witnessed Aurora's gradual awakening. "Oh, thank goodness!"
John squeezed Aurora's hand gently. "Welcome back, my little dawn."
Aurora's eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the light in the room. Confusion marked her expression as she looked around, realizing she was in her own bed. "What happened?"
The physician stepped forward, a mix of curiosity and concern on his face. "We've been trying to figure that out. You've been in a deep sleep for several days."
Aurora frowned, attempting to recall the events leading to her unusual slumber but her mind seemed clouded. "I... I don't remember," she muttered.
John exchanged a glance with Eleanor, a shadow of worry crossing his face. "We'll give you time to recover. The important thing is that you're awake now."
The physician looked at John and Eleanor and said, "Let's give her some time to rest," the physician said, his tone gentle but firm. He carefully packed up his medical supplies, making sure everything was in order. "We can assess her condition in more detail once she's had some time to rest. In the meantime, I'll prepare some herbal remedies and potions that will aid in her recovery."
"I will go get you something to eat, you must be starving." Eleanor gently patted Aurora wearing a warm smile. The physician led the way out of the room, with John and Eleanor trailing close behind. The air felt lighter and less oppressive as they left her room, and they all breathed a collective sigh of relief.
The moment the door closed, Aurora pushed herself up into a sitting position, trying to piece together the events of the night before. But it was like grasping at wisps of smoke; the details were hazy and hard to make out. She let out a frustrated sigh, the reality of her weakened body weighing on her.
An hour passed, and she felt her throat grow dry and parched. Her need for water grew urgent, but there was no one around to call for help. Her mind raced with thoughts of how to quench her thirst, and her eyes landed on the pitcher of water on the nightstand. She slowly rose to her feet, her legs trembling as she stood, She could barely walk without stumbling, but she forced herself to take the few steps towards the nightstand.
With great effort, she reached the nightstand, her hand trembling as she grasped the pitcher of water. Her eyes focused on the water, her mouth watering as she lifted the pitcher to her lips. She took a long, slow drink, the cool water soothing her dry throat. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of relief as she drank, grateful for the simple pleasure of a refreshing drink of water then a memory flashed in her mind, an event of the incident that had occurred that night. Her stomach lurched recalling how she was attacked and she remembered how one of the man had his hand on her thigh. She felt his touch and it made her skin crawl with disgust.
She remembered how they tried to pull her away, and how she had struggled to get away from them. But she couldn't recall what happened next….the memory was like a dark shadow, and she couldn't quite bring it to focus.
A throbbing headache started to pound in her temples, and she felt a wave of nausea sweep over her. She tried to take a deep breath, but her chest felt tight and constricted. The memory of the attack seemed to have unlocked something inside of her…a memory of someone else. She shook her head, trying to dispel the lingering unease. "It was probably just a dream," she whispered to herself.
She tried to convince herself that it was just a bad dream, a nightmare that had seeped into her waking world. But the memory of the man's red hair and strange, haunting eyes stayed with her. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that something was off about what had happened the night before. And the more she tried to forget, the more insistent the memory became.
"Dream or reality, does that really matter, Aurora?" she heard a voice behind her. Startled, she turned around to findthe man in her supposed dream lounging on her bed, an enigmatic smirk playing on his lips. His presence seemed to cast a shadow over the room, and Aurora's eyes widened in horror.
"Who... what are you?"