I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.
I'm fine. I'm fine.
I'm fine. I'm fine.
I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.
I'm fine. I'm fine.The words kept bouncing around in her head, rattling about and wreaking havoc upon other, more peaceful dreams.
I'm fine. Images of cats and crows and boats and water and people - people who all felt familiar, yet lacked faces - were all around her, and she recognized her own home town.
I'm fine. An old man was casting a fishing rod from one of the empty piers, cursing his luck and mumbling about the stock market.
I'm fine. Two children were running along the boardwalk, and Brunhilde realized that she was running alongside them, rather than merely watching.
I'm fine. Crowds of nameless and faceless people wove shapeless words in and out of consciousness as they passed, and Brunhilde and the children turned a corner.
I'm fine. She was suddenly on a fishing boat, far enough out at sea that all she could see in any direction was water, and a voice called out behind her. 'Lunch time. I packed some sandwiches for you guys. They're in the cooler over there,' the voice said, accompanied by the crack of an opening beer can. It was her father's voice.
I'm fine.Smoke, ash, sand, clay. Four scents and four colors. A fifth scent arose - that of iron, copper, blood. But red was not present. It felt like it came from within rather than from the outside world, and she smelled brine as well, and she heard people shouting. Two men and two women, one of whom was herself. A blackened tree stood in a sea of whites, greys, and browns, which was surrounded by yellowed and wilted grass. A faceless man stood under the tree, and a chain whip lashed out at her. The smell of blood worsened, and as the chain struck her in the chest, everything shattered.
She awoke in a strange place for the second time that day, and opened her eyes for the first time. It was a bedroom of a sort, and what she assumed to be her own bag was sitting on top of a desk. It had fallen over, and over a hundred pens of varying colors, ink types, and brands had scattered everywhere, indicating that whenever she had gotten here, she did not give a single, lonely fuck. The dream played over and over again in her head, growing less coherent with each pass, and she came to the conclusion that it wasn't one, but rather several dreams that had managed to get mashed up together, and it was
not a fun one. She groggily flopped out of the bed and onto the floor, where her nose had a heart to heart chat with a red marker, two black ballpoint pens, and a green highlighter. Perhaps standing up would have been a good idea.
Five minutes of unpacking her things passed, and everything seemed to be in order, except for herself. Her left arm would
not. Stop. Fucking. Twitching. It was rather disconcerting, and the twitching in the left arm was accompanied by a dull ache deep inside her left quadriceps and calf. Perhaps her nerves had yet to calm from whatever had happened. The bathroom seemed to be quite nice, if a little cramped, and the shower was very, very tempting. The scent of nothingness from that morning hadn't gone away in the rest of the room, but she herself most certainly didn't smell of nothing. She sniffed her arm and was surprised to discover that she smelled like a bonfire. Smoke, ash, and charred dirt. A shower was
definitely in order.
Thirty minutes further, and she wandered out the door, with most of her daily supplies at the ready. A somewhat small, cheapish notebook that had been tucked into her bag told her that she was at a boarding school, what her name was, and the like. Most of it was stuff she already knew. A chuckle escaped her lips as she saw a note that she had memory loss -
No shit. Some other pages from a totally different book were stuffed into the notebook as well, folded so they would fit - and written in her own handwriting. Two people were listed - one Avy and one Emi, and Emi seemed to be a very important person, according to what she assumed to be her past self. The third page seemed to be a very detailed log of what had been happening that day, but it cut off at roughly 1:08 PM, after a description of having gone to the library to make copies. Emi, the pink-head, had apparently been helping her that day. Brunhilde wrote in the notebook that wasn't hers that whatever had happened, she'd have to thank this Emi person somehow. She seemed to be an airhead, according to the copied journal page, so perhaps she would need a study buddy or something.
When she looked up from the notebook, she found herself in a rather interesting living room, with another door on the other side. A dorm of some sort, and it looked like it had been lived in by another person as well. Female, judging by the residual scent of everything except for super-masculine deodorant that very faintly wafted in from the other door. No sounds of motion on the other side, though, so she figured that her roommate was already out, and that they had either met, or they had by some miracle completely missed eachother that night. More walking.
The instructions in the notebook led her to the location at which she was supposed to have had her first lesson, and she recognized the blackened tree and circle of ash and sand. The dream hadn't quite stopped running through her head yet, and although she had no idea what had happened in it anymore, the image of that tree and the smells of charcoal and blood hadn't been forgotten. She distinctly got the feeling that whatever had happened yesterday had happened here, and that she had gotten up and walked away after it all ended.
I'm fine.She looked around for her instructors and her fellow classmates, ignoring the dull headache that had cropped up. She would be very much distracted during this class period.
Day 2, 12:30 PM, Lunchtime
At the scheduled time listed in the notebook, she departed for the cafeteria, explaining to anyone who protested that if she didn't try to keep a solid schedule, she wouldn't be able to function at all. The directions to the cafeteria were kindly provided by the notebook. Upon arrival, she found herself in possession of one meal voucher, which she promptly turned in for the chance at something she hadn't ever had before. Borscht, it was called - a peasant's meal from Russia, made with beets and other vegetables and beef, topped with a dollop of sour cream. Other students were lining up for food, and although a few looked like trouble, she managed to avoid contact with anybody. Her left arm hadn't stopped with the muscle spasms yet, so she opted to carry her food with the right hand instead, lest she accidentally dump it all over the floor.
She searched for other students who seemed interesting, and didn't seem like massive assholes. Regardless of whether Emi was present in the cafeteria, she figured she would try to find someone else to meet - perhaps make another friend, gather information. She'd intercept Emi as soon as lunch ended, but before then, she would pretend to be completely oblivious, to keep her friend from thinking Brunhilde was avoiding her. If the Giant (
@Zelosse) were in the cafeteria, she would very easily spot him and take her place next to him and whomever he was with with a 'short' (ha-ha) hello.
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