Something that just came to me. The muses/evil plot bunny demands it.
A girl wakes up in a cabin, not knowing who she is, how she got there and where she is. All alone in the night in an arctic waste. Will she find who she is?
I felt cold.
I was in a bed, draped in woolen sheets, wearing nothing but a sickly green gown with tiny blue dots. It was dark and a mournful howling filled the air. I stirred from sleep slowly, every part of my body heavy and aching.
I couldn’t tell where I was, the room of an old cabin by the looks of it. The open window let in the glacial air. Painfully I got out of bed, my gown flapping in the wind, exposing everything, the cold hurt. Mustering what strength I could, I closed the window down, the effort feeling draining. I could barely stand, my legs shaking underneath me.
Rather than investigate, I crawled back to the bed, losing myself to sleep before I could even finish covering myself.
I woke up it was still dark, but a light shone outside, I dragged myself out of the covers and went to look.
Everything outside was frozen, nothing but snow and a tree here and there to break the monotony of the featureless terrain. Above, lights danced in the sky, meeting and parting repeatedly, leaving great lines oscillating between colors behind them.
Must be an Aurora Borealis
It wasn’t. And I knew it.
Bare feet, i walked through the room. It was small and overly encumbered; a large bed, a big set of drawers and a small end table. I opened the drawers and found clothes. Underwear, leggings, jeans, a shirt and a woolen overshirt. I couldn’t tell if these belonged to me, the fit was passable but not great.
I couldn’t tell anything, everything in my mind was hazy, how I’d gotten here, where I was, who I was. It was all a blur, I felt like I could grasp something, but it would slip further away. The bracelet on my hand told me something;
Ophelia White: Allergic to Penicillin.
It was a start.
I looked at the end table, a note waited there, held in place with an empty glass.
“I will be waiting for you. When you wake up, always.”
It was signed ‘R’ something that felt familiar but again I couldn’t replace. Underneath the message, a sun had been drawn in bright oranges and yellows.
I put it in my pocket, feeling like it was important, that it meant something to me. I walked to the door and opened it slowly, peaking through the small slit created by doing so.
Nothing, it was dark, lit only by the phenomenon outside, empty of anyone living who could have helped me. I walked into the room proper and examined my surroundings. Like the bedroom it wasn’t large, containing little but a futon couch, a coffee table, a bookshelf filled half with book and half with junk, a small waist high cabinet and a large stone fireplace above which a mechanical clock hung, still working.
From there, I could see what seemed like a kitchen, a pair of opposed counters, wall cabinets and a sink with an old style pump. There wasn’t any kitchen appliance or signs of electricity at all.
Out the windows, I saw nothing but the snowy wastes. This was the world I woke up in. Surely someone would find me?