Strange Evening

As I gradually opened my eyes, the sight of the striking lady before me filled me with confusion. Who was she? I attempted to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my stomach, forcing a groan from my lips. "Oh dear, please stay still; we wouldn't want you to hurt yourself more," she said, her voice intended to soothe, yet something about her tone felt insincere. My throat was parched, and my lips felt swollen, likely resembling a ripe tomato—red and tender.

As my senses sharpened, I realized this wasn't my bedroom. Where was I? My gaze drifted to a small work desk in the corner, cluttered with a solitary pen and a stack of books. I never would have guessed that Elias was one of those rare souls who appreciated reading. Ignoring her insistence, I attempted to rise, but each movement sent shivers of discomfort coursing through my body. Where was Elias? He had been the one to carry me on his back, hadn't he? I could still picture his strong, sturdy frame, which had ignited a flutter of butterflies in my stomach—or perhaps it was the sting of the punches I had endured that caused this unease.

Thoughts of my mother flooded my mind. Where was she? If she had returned, I would surely have woken up to her concerned face, but that wasn't the case. Perhaps she hadn't arrived yet. I finally managed to ask, "Excuse me, miss, but how long has it been since... since the beating I took?" I hoped I wasn't overestimating the duration; perhaps it felt like two days. My heart raced with anxiety. No, surely not. "It has only been a few hours since then," she replied, her words surprising me. "About how many, may I ask?"

"Maybe about three," she answered. What? That didn't seem like much, yet I was left astonished; it didn't feel like only a few hours. Perhaps those punches had dulled my sense of time. Now sitting upright in bed, I felt a familiar tug of thoughts drifting back to Elias and the peculiar lady. Why were they holding hands? Was I jealous? No, that couldn't be. I was out of his league anyway. Yet, I couldn't shake the irritation of seeing him with someone else, especially after the countless times I had tried to reach out to him without success. Was I seriously fixating on this right now? I had bigger concerns at hand.

As I moved to stand, the strange lady gently but firmly grasped my arm. "I think it would be better if you stayed in bed for a while," she said, her smile both soft and oddly forceful. Something was unsettling about her, and I felt an urge to uncover the truth. "I'm fine, really," I insisted, even though it felt like a knife was repeatedly stabbing me. "You don't look quite alright," she countered, her grip loosening slightly. Was she serious? Of course, I didn't look fine.

"I just need some water, that's all," I declared. With determination, I pushed myself up and made my way to the door. Then I froze in shock. There stood Elias. Are you kidding me? At that moment, I felt utterly vulnerable and insecure. Why did he have to show up now?