I wrote this a while ago and there is some more to it, but I'm only really close to satisfied with this first part. I really have no idea where it's going.
It's morning, and the sun has barely crossed the threshold of the horizon. The darkness that had enveloped me is receding and I roll over to find myself in unfamiliar, unexpected surroundings. A heavy room, the walls have a dark mauve silk papering. The draperies hang over the windows in a musty way that only time and neglect and produce. What am I doing here? More importantly how did I get here?
There's a knock at the door and an elderly woman enters. She has a stooped posture of someone who has know labor during her lifetime. However, when I look at her, her wrinkled face cannot hide the beauty it had once radiated. She says nothing to me as she lays fresh clothing on the bed, a pastel blue linen skirt and white blouse. Both are new and very expensive looking. Next to it she lays 2 clean towels. She stokes the fire in the hearth and closes the door as she leaves in silence.
As I leave the comforting embrace of the bed, I grow more fearful, as if I've just gone 3 steps closer to a precipice. I pick up the towels and open a door to my left. Behind it a find a large bathroom with a sunken tub and a separate upright shower. Feeling the need to both relax and try and take time to think about things, I opt for the tub. As the water runs, I reenter the bedroom for further exploration. The furniture is grand, but covered in a thick layer of dust. There are no pictures in the entire room. I find this fact to be quite unusual.
As I return to the tub, I take a moment to investigate myself in the glass. Long, chestnut hair, green eyes, the familiar nose I always thought was a little too big for my face. No doubt about it, it's me looking back. I undress and enter the hot water, entirely submerging myself, almost daring myself not to resurface. It's a long time before I do. As I sit in the tub, I try and jog some sort of recollection of how I may have arrived at this place. Thinking back , I remember nothing of note. Waking up, in my own bed, walking the dog. I remember mundane everyday actions, the routine my life has become. Suddenly I realize I don't know when it is either. How long have I been here?
My head swims as I leave my bath. I put on the clothes laid out for me. Whoever chose these items for me has very good taste, although not quite in line with my normal wardrobe of jeans and tank tops. I look for shoes, but I find none. As I walk across the room to open the door the woman had used to enter and leave, I hear a thud against the window. My destination changes as I quickly go to investigate the noise. I try and open the window, but either rust or welding holds it shut. As I look through the pane, I see birds. Large black birds circling in the sky, hundreds of them. The fear that gripped me as I left the bed has returned and I have second thoughts about leaving the room.
I return to the bed . There are 3 high backed chairs throughout the room, but I don't want to sit, I just want the comfort of familiarity, and the bed offers the closest thing to it. I pull my knees to my chest, making myself as small as possible. I wonder if I might cry. Suddenly the door opens and the woman returns. I wonder why she didn't knock this time.
“Excuse me,” the sound of my voice seems to startle us both. She looks at me as if seeing me for the first time. “How long have I been here?” She looks confused, so I try another question. “Where is am I?” She continues to stare, confusion turning to frustration. I give up, I lower my face to my knees and tears start to roll down my face. The woman seems more confounded than ever. She leaves the room in a hurry. Helplessness and dread linger in the atmosphere. Tears turn to exhaustion, and I sleep.
When I awake, the sun is high, but the room seems darker, colder. I steel my resolve and get out of bed. As I walk to the door, I am surprised to find it unlocked. It swings open easily and I escape my seemingly self-imposed prison. The hallway is dark, lamps creating random pools of light is either direction. The lush carpet on the floor tickles my feet as I decide on a direction to go.
Being out of the bedroom emboldens me, and I casually follow the hallway to
the left. I pass door after door, wondering to myself if there are other people in the rooms sharing my amnesia. It's dark so I guide myself by placing my hand on the wall. The whisper of my fingertips on the paper is hypnotic.
“Delilah, where are you going?” The familiarity of my own name was the only thing that made me pause. I did not recognize the voice that had delivered me the savory memory. I slowly turn around to face the man who knows me. He is tall and handsome, but he wears a sad demeanor. “Where are you going?”
