In the beginning Cecilia had felt like she was in her own room. It was the first sleep that had felt like home, her true home, in a long time. The dark green room with the soft bed she could sink right into. The room that she'd practically grown up in. The room he had taken from her. She hadn't spent a single night in that place since his presence had defiled it.
This place felt like home, and there was no sense of urgency. Her body ached, and she was so tired, so sore... she didn't want to open her eyes. She wanted to sink back into a comfortable oblivion. She wanted to roll onto her side and snuggle up to Neptune, but couldn't summon the strength to go onto her side. That was annoying. Cecilia tried again and failed. She moaned softly, and pulled the covers up over her head. It was so bright. Too bright. In time, she managed to force her eyes open.
The light was all wrong. Not her room in Ogunquit. She remembered that she'd left that place long ago, but something still wasn't right. She moved her arm to try and reach for Neptune, and something tugged at her. Frowning, she realized there was an IV in her forearm.
A blind terror gradually crept up on her, rising from her stomach and flooding into her throat. She wanted to scream, and she wasn't even sure why, but it didn't matter. She didn't have the strength for even that yet. She managed to push the covers back, but the blankets were large and fluffy and she had difficulty freeing herself from it. In the struggle her eyes had flickered over the bracelet on her other wrist, and that only made the impending panic worse. She knew that was wrong, even if her brain wasn't coherently distinguishing what was so wrong about it. At last she was free, panting, gasping, trying to fight off the horrors that threatened to overcome her. If she was at home, Neptune would have sensed the threat of her anxiety and rushed to her side. Neptune was nowhere to be seen, and that was somehow scarier to Cecilia than anything else. She called for him; her voice was foreign to her ears. Hoarse, weak.
She saw the camera then, and the box beneath, and that made the world still a little. Why of all things that had a sobering effect on her, she couldn't say. She looked at her ID bracelet again. Subject. No, that was wrong. Not a hospital then. Carefully, Cecilia removed the IV from her arm, clamping her hand over the wound until the bleeding stopped. If she wasn't in a hospital, then this couldn't mean anything good. She managed to climb out of bed. Cecilia had to stand in place for a long time, willing herself not to fall over. She concentrated hard on each and every step. Her first priority was not to open the box, but to disable the camera. Yet when she reached above her head, the world spun and she faltered, dropping to her knees. For a moment she thought she might be sick. Since she was on the floor anyway, she focused instead on opening the box. Her pajamas took up only a tiny portion of the large box. It was while she was pulling those out of the box that she remembered what had happened.