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truth bomb: i am reusing starters

[jockeying]

[ when raleigh wakes up, she wakes up cold. when she breathes, she gasps like she's trying to fill her lungs for the first time, and pitches sideways to wretch and choke and desperately fight for some semblance of normal. her insides feel off, there's something wrong with her; her chest is tight, and she can't tell if her heart is beating too quickly or to slowly.

or at all.

and who knows, it might not be. because the second that raleigh can concentrate on anything other than her hacking, wheezing, and disorientation, it's when she realizes that she is laying in a pool of blood. her night dress, a pale pink at some point, is saturated in the stuff. there's a lot of it, and it's everywhere. on her hands, on her clothes, slicking her legs, matting her hair. it's too much for whomever lost it to have survived, and she doesn't remember how she came to be drenched in someone else's blood.

...it was someone else's blood, wasn't it?

fear and shock gave way to hysterics, and raleigh began to cry. she shrieks for her mother, cries maman, maman several times over again. and when dominique doesn't come running, raleigh tries to stand up and ends up crumpling. she's weak, lethargic, and thinks she might be dead — or at least everyone else is — and she doesn't know why she's woken up at all if she's just going to succumb to injuries she can't feel and die too. she can't stand, can't walk, can't hear any other living creature in their country house, and can't focus on more than one thing at a time —

which is how she completely misses yancy sitting in the corner of her room, in an old arm chair. the crying quiets almost immediately, and raleigh does a grade-a double take, all tear tracks in blood, and bedraggled hair. she hadn't noticed him, and he'd just sat there quietly while she'd cried and screamed. and — and — was he okay? he appeared to be covered in just as much blood as she, and his tunic had rips akin to stab wounds in it. ]

Frère? Yancy — what happened? [ gorge, bile, blood... something rises in her throat, and she feels herself go cold. ] I do not — I don't feel good.