She wanted to scream.
The hand pressing over her mouth was suffocating and she gasped for air. The sound of her heart beating in her chest was deafening and pushing everything else away. She hated being caught like this, hated feeling trapped. She had been trapped in her body in this room that wasn’t her own for days now. Or weeks, she wasn’t sure. Time had stopped mattering long ago and all that was left was a nightmare.
She wanted out, wanted to run.
And yet she didn’t move.
“Shhh,” the voice had lost a touch of the softness, but it was still quiet. Quiet and tense. She didn’t know the boy, didn’t know why he was here. He had been speaking to her before she woke up, but what he had said was lost in dizzy clouds of dreams and thoughts. Had she just been dreaming? Was this a dream?
“Don’t speak. They’ll hear you.”
As if she could speak with a hand pressed over her mouth. She turned her head slightly, trying to catch the eyes of the boy. Blue. She didn’t know him just like she hadn’t known any of the other voices she had heard in the darkness.
“I’m Michael,” the hand loosened a little and she drew away, eyes frowning. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Where am I?” This wasn’t the local hospital back home. She wasn’t even sure it was a hospital at all, though she remembered hearing the word healer.
“Circe…” She paused, the name wasn’t familiar except for the memory of a brief mention by her English teacher once he had taught of mythology.
“Circe Hall. You won’t have head of it.”