Rayne

The first thing I recall was the sounds around me. So sharp. People whispered and it sounded as clear as if they’d screamed in my ear. I tried to reach up and block my ears from all their loud whispers, but my arms would not move. Beyond the room, I could hear the sounds of the entire Underground city; each sound precise and clear.
“She moved!” one of the loud whispers shot through me fiercely. I instinctively flinched away from it.
“Silence!” my mind automatically recognised the soft and harsh whisper as that of Eris. I furrowed my brow, trying to regain control over the sound around me. As sound receded from my awareness, a tide came in for pain. Every inch of my skin screamed as if on fire, every bone twisting, every muscle rending; torn apart. My throat roared with agony, as if sharp, harsh nails raked my oesophagus when a scream tore its way from my lips. As I ran out of breath and the scream died on my lips, a sudden sharpness pierced my forehead, impaling my skull. I felt as if a shard of steel had skewered my head, searing my mind. My eyes flew open and I gasped; my eyes registering colours, lines, shapes in clarity never before imagined. Again, like the tide of an ocean, the pain receded, rushing from my body and leaving me alert, mind buzzing with new information to process. I did not move my head, simply flicked my eyes around the room. They landed seven people; the Heads of Department, and Kella, watching over me worriedly, her puppy-dog eyes concerned as she twisted her apron in her hands. I could see these people more clearly than before, hear the air rushing from their lungs and the blood in their temples, feel the sheets on my body and the precise movement of the slight breeze cast by an air conditioner. I inhaled slowly, my heart racing and tasted the nitrogen in the air; smelled perspiration and pheromones associated with fear on those around me.
“Oh, by Gaea’s breath…” Marion whispered. The wind my mind noted, and a new weight settled on me; the weight of my mind. Where did all this knowledge of the world come from?
“Look at her,” Mason. “She’s… how did this happen so fast, Eris?” I saw the artery in his neck throb as he turned to look at her; adoration in his eyes.
“I do not know. She is something new; remember. We have not seen her kind in a long time. It appears to me that she completed the month-long biological transformation in three days.” Eris explained. Three days? I thought, I’ve been out of it for three days? With slight annoyance, I realised that despite seeing me here, eyes open, they were yet to speak to me. Irritation furrowed my brow, and I forced my croaky voice to speak. Only, when I spoke it wasn’t croaky at all. It came out soft and smooth, with that deadly calm I heard in Eris’ voice.
“How long was I unconscious?” the entire room froze and stared at me. Including Eris. It was Areanna who first got a grip of herself.
“Three days,” she said. The day after you met with us Mason came to awake you, and found you convulsing on the table in front of this-” she handed me they very book that I am writing in now, “-It seems that your body made a month’s worth of changes in three days, and as a result, it had to shut itself down. It was too much to take.”
“How do ya feel, love?” The soft, chubby hand of Kella touched my cheek.
“It comes and goes,” I said, still mentally gawking at the sound of my own voice, “First everything will be clear and fine, like right now, and I am left to be overwhelmed with these new senses… Then pain will block out everything. I can’t think or move and then everything seems to fade away.” a moment after saying this, I cried out, feeling like I’d just been punched in the solar-plexus. The entire room cried out with me, and even as the pain still echoed through me, I laughed. I guffawed, clutching my aching sides. They act like they care I thought, but nobody ever has. Not even my parents. Even as I write this, I feel sickened with the knowledge that this is true; all I ever was to my parents… was a trophy. A shiny, smiling achievement for them to brag about. Life is sick.

Six hours later I was out of the infirmary and back in my home. Eris could offer me no advise or consoling words. She had no idea what was to come next; because I was the first of my kind for some time. Apparently all this biological turmoil had my immune system down, because that night my head throbbed with a migraine and I developed a sinus infection. Hooray. I was stuck in bed, red nosed and coughing. Who said life in the Underground was glamorous? The second day of being bed-ridden, the pains recommenced, albeit milder. Every five minutes, icy hotness would shoot up one of my limbs, or my skin would feel aflame. By the third day; Kella stayed with me in my room, and I fell into a fever. She cooled my boiling skin with a wet towel, despite feeling as though I was icy cold. By day four I had been returned to the infirmary, and Brida had to help Kella who was continually holding back my hair as I hurled into a bucket. My whole life, I had never known pain this severe and illness this foul. As day five swung around I felt suicidal, shivering with cold as my body temperature soared, hot flushed washing over me. I stopped eating, yet still my stomach emptied itself, bile burning my throat. Between bouts of vomiting, I sobbed and dry-reached, blowing my nose and feeling all-together disgusting. My skin felt oily and dry at the same time, my eyes watered and my head felt as if it were pulsating. Brida could do nothing to ease the suffering, except burn lavender oil in the room to soothe my nerves. Around three o’clock the next morning, I fell into a delirium, mind dancing through broken dreams and sickening nightmares. I tossed and turned, babbling nonsense while a stricken Kella called for her department head. My memory from that time consists of tattered fragments.

A week passes, and I slowly recover, locked in my room. The only people I see since my fifth day here are Kella and Brida. It’s not until twenty days after first falling into the fever that I see anyone besides them. That day I awoke, feeling much better, I showered, washed every inch of my body vigorously. I dressed in three-quarter grey linen pants and a sleeveless teal tunic with a v-neck. Slip hiking boots onto my feet and absently comb my wet hair over breakfast. In the process of cleaning my dormitory of used tissues and dirty dishes, I hear a rat-a-tat-tat on my door. Crossing the room, I open it, expecting Kella or Brida. Instead, there’s the mousey face of Mason, grinning with excitement.
“You’re better!” He says, beaming. I smile in return, and watch as his eyes scan me. The grin falls into a shocked expression, “By Gaea’s garters!” he says. Inappropriate, much?
“What? What is it?” I demand, still blocking his entrance.
“When was the last time you looked in the mirror, Rayne?”
“Uh. When I met the heads of departments. In Marion’s compact. Why?”
“I think you should look in a mirror. I also think I should get Eris.” Mason turned and darted off.
“Why?” I whispered to thin air, before bolting to the mirror in my bathroom.

If my body and mind hadn’t suffered enough shock with all this change, it did when I saw my reflection.