Haunted by Evanescence
She awoke slowly, trying to piece together where she was and what had happened, but her head felt like mush. No thoughts were processed straight. Her head felt filled with a million misted visions, yet somehow totally desolate at the same time. She raised her hands to her head as she worked through the mess, feeling a cloth bandage on her left temple.
Then, she realized, the last thing she remembered was being on the bus, not in bed. The woman sat up, so fast that her head began to spin again. She was lying in a bed in the middle of the room and the door stood right in front of her; a detail she instantly took into consideration. The room seemed furnished for a mansion; dark woods, area rugs and large, heavy furniture. The room seemed respectfully dark, which unnerved the woman. She had no recollection of the place and her heart pounded at that fact. She was alone in a strange place and the fear paralyzed her.
But she wasn't alone! "Oh, good, you're up," a woman with a dark complexion calmly stated, though it wasn't altogether convincing that she was actually glad. The woman was standing at a high table on a wall. She seemed somewhat... odd. This woman was unusually young for the white of her hair and an unexplainable power seemed to seep from her pores.
"My name is Ororo Munroe. This is Professor Xavier's School for the Gifted." Ororo watched the woman cautiously for any reaction. "You should eat something first." She brought over a tray with food on it, but her authoritive voice held no sway over the woman in the bed. She instantly got up out of the bed as soon as Ororo took a step toward her. The strange woman put the tray at the foot of the bed, eyeing the other carefully; she was looking at her bare feet, puzzled.
"We took your shoes off so you would be comfortable. Same with your sweatshirt," Ororo gestured to the sweatshirt now hanging on a radiator. "It was freezing wet from the snow." At that, the woman took the warm sweater and threw it over her head, still keeping an eye on the other.
Ororo tried to explain the situation so the woman wouldn't be too frightened. "You were in a bus accident. We found you and brought you here; bandaged your head and made sure you were warm." As the other woman brought her hand back to the bandage, Ororo assured her it was only a bad scratch as far as she knew.
Ororo hesitated before going on. "Why don't you sit? Did you know anyone on the bus?" The woman remembered only snippets of it. The faces of the people on the bus, all involved in their own business. She looked to the front of the bus, saw a car swerve in front of them, she screamed
When the woman made no movement or sign of even understanding, Ororo sighed and lowered her voice. "No one else survived."
The news hit the woman like a train wreck, instantly hitting her chest with the blow. Everything else the other said was lost in the mind numbing pain. "You were the only one we found alive." None of it mattered. They were all gone, her only link to an real explanation. "Even you were close to being lost." The small bit of the world she had collected from the time she awoke was shattered.
Her shock quickly turned to anger. She did not want to cry so her response was to let the anger fuel through her blood vessels. She would unleash her wrath at anyone; the world, God, the woman incessantly talking and trying to calm her down. She saw the vase on the nightstand by the bed between her blurred visions of the room.
She awoke slowly, trying to piece together where she was and what had happened, but her head felt like mush. No thoughts were processed straight. Her head felt filled with a million misted visions, yet somehow totally desolate at the same time. She raised her hands to her head as she worked through the mess, feeling a cloth bandage on her left temple.
Then, she realized, the last thing she remembered was being on the bus, not in bed. The woman sat up, so fast that her head began to spin again. She was lying in a bed in the middle of the room and the door stood right in front of her; a detail she instantly took into consideration. The room seemed furnished for a mansion; dark woods, area rugs and large, heavy furniture. The room seemed respectfully dark, which unnerved the woman. She had no recollection of the place and her heart pounded at that fact. She was alone in a strange place and the fear paralyzed her.
But she wasn't alone! "Oh, good, you're up," a woman with a dark complexion calmly stated, though it wasn't altogether convincing that she was actually glad. The woman was standing at a high table on a wall. She seemed somewhat... odd. This woman was unusually young for the white of her hair and an unexplainable power seemed to seep from her pores.
"My name is Ororo Munroe. This is Professor Xavier's School for the Gifted." Ororo watched the woman cautiously for any reaction. "You should eat something first." She brought over a tray with food on it, but her authoritive voice held no sway over the woman in the bed. She instantly got up out of the bed as soon as Ororo took a step toward her. The strange woman put the tray at the foot of the bed, eyeing the other carefully; she was looking at her bare feet, puzzled.
"We took your shoes off so you would be comfortable. Same with your sweatshirt," Ororo gestured to the sweatshirt now hanging on a radiator. "It was freezing wet from the snow." At that, the woman took the warm sweater and threw it over her head, still keeping an eye on the other.
Ororo tried to explain the situation so the woman wouldn't be too frightened. "You were in a bus accident. We found you and brought you here; bandaged your head and made sure you were warm." As the other woman brought her hand back to the bandage, Ororo assured her it was only a bad scratch as far as she knew.
Ororo hesitated before going on. "Why don't you sit? Did you know anyone on the bus?" The woman remembered only snippets of it. The faces of the people on the bus, all involved in their own business. She looked to the front of the bus, saw a car swerve in front of them, she screamed
When the woman made no movement or sign of even understanding, Ororo sighed and lowered her voice. "No one else survived."
The news hit the woman like a train wreck, instantly hitting her chest with the blow. Everything else the other said was lost in the mind numbing pain. "You were the only one we found alive." None of it mattered. They were all gone, her only link to an real explanation. "Even you were close to being lost." The small bit of the world she had collected from the time she awoke was shattered.
Her shock quickly turned to anger. She did not want to cry so her response was to let the anger fuel through her blood vessels. She would unleash her wrath at anyone; the world, God, the woman incessantly talking and trying to calm her down. She saw the vase on the nightstand by the bed between her blurred visions of the room.