Nightmares at Everglade Falls

11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Ophelia

I wake up in the infirmary, feeling dizzy and disoriented. The events of the previous night come rushing back to me, and I can’t shake the feeling of fear and vulnerability that still lingers.

Nurse Aria comes over to check on me, and her gentle demeanor provides some comfort in the sterile environment of the infirmary. “How are you feeling, dear?” she asks, her voice soft and reassuring.

I offer her a weak smile. “I’m okay, I guess,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just sore.”

She nods sympathetically, adjusting the blankets around me. “Well, you took quite a beating,” she says, her tone tinged with concern. “But you’re lucky to be alive.”

I swallow hard, the reality of what happened sinking in. “Yeah,” I murmur, my thoughts drifting to Gabriel. “Where’s Gabriel?”

Nurse Aria hesitates for a moment before answering. “He left,” she says simply, her expression unreadable.

I feel a pang of disappointment mixed with a twinge of hurt. I had hoped he would stay and be there for me during this ordeal. But I push those feelings aside, focusing instead on the friends who have come to visit.

Aurora pops in with a bright smile, bringing a ray of sunshine into the room. “Hey, Ophelia!” she chirps, pulling up a chair beside my bed. “How are you feeling?”

I manage a small smile in return. “Better now that you’re here,” I reply, grateful for her company.

She reaches out to squeeze my hand gently. “I was so worried about you,” she admits, her eyes filled with genuine concern. “But I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

I nod, feeling a swell of gratitude for her friendship. “Thanks, Aurora,” I say, my voice tinged with emotion. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

She smiles warmly, her eyes shining with affection. “You’ll never have to find out,” she says, her voice filled with determination.

As we chat, Owen makes a surprise appearance, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by a genuine concern. “Hey, Ophelia,” he says, hovering awkwardly by the door. “How are you holding up?”

I offer him a small smile. “Better now that you’re here,” I reply, echoing my earlier sentiment to Aurora.

He nods, shuffling his feet nervously. “I... uh... I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he mumbles, his cheeks flushing slightly.

I appreciate his concern despite his awkwardness. “Thanks, Owen,” I say, my voice soft with gratitude. “It means a lot.”

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, if you need anything, just let me know,” he says before hastily retreating from the room.

As the days pass, I find myself growing increasingly restless. I spend my time reading, dozing, and staring at the ceiling, waiting for Gabriel to come back. But he never does.

I try not to dwell on his absence, focusing instead on my recovery and the support of my friends. But deep down, I can’t shake the feeling of disappointment and hurt that gnaws at me.

Eventually, the nurse informs me that I’ll be discharged soon, my injuries healing faster than expected. I’m relieved to be leaving the confines of the infirmary, but a part of me can’t help but wonder why Gabriel never came back to see me.

I think I might have pushed him too far by asking him to stay. I wish we had gotten a chance to talk after that incident in the lab, but with everything else that is going on, I don’t know if we ever will.

It takes another three days before Nurse Aria informs me I am ready to leave the hospital.

As I sit on the edge of my hospital bed, preparing to leave, Principal Celestia enters the room, her presence commanding attention. I straighten up instinctively, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“Ophelia,” she begins, her tone grave yet gentle. “I have some news for you.”

I nod, my heart rate quickening with anticipation. “What is it?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

The principal takes a seat beside me, her expression serious. “You’re being discharged from the infirmary,” she says, her gaze unwavering. “But there’s more. You’ll be moving to House Mystique.”

I furrow my brow in confusion. “Why?” I inquire, puzzled by the sudden change.

Principal Celestia sighs, her eyes betraying a hint of sadness. “We wanted to ensure your safety and well-being,” she explains. “House Mystique is better equipped to handle... certain situations.”

I swallow hard, a knot forming in my stomach. “Are you saying you’re worried I’ll be attacked again?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

The principal hesitates before responding, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. “There’s something else you need to know,” she says, her tone grave. “This isn’t the first time an attack like this has happened at the school.”

My eyes widen in shock, my mind racing with questions. “What do you mean?” I demand, my voice tinged with fear.

Principal Celestia takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she’s about to reveal. “Twenty-one years ago,” she begins, her voice tinged with sorrow. “There was a similar attack on the school. It happened to Elias and Seraphina.”

The names send a shiver down my spine, a sense of unease settling over me like a heavy blanket. “Who are they?” I ask, my voice trembling with apprehension.

The principal’s expression softens, sympathy etched in her features. “They were your parents, Ophelia,” she says gently, her words hanging heavy in the air.

My heart skips a beat, my mind reeling with disbelief. “My parents?” I repeat, my voice barely a whisper.

Principal Celestia nods solemnly, her eyes filled with empathy. “I’m sorry, Ophelia,” she says, her voice filled with regret. “I should have told you sooner.”

I sit in stunned silence, the weight of her words sinking in. My parents... attacked at this school, just like me.

“When did you find out?” I ask, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Celestia’s expression grows somber as she recounts the discovery. “As I was tending to your wounds,” she begins, her voice soft yet filled with gravity, “I sensed something peculiar—a spell was binding you. It had the same energy as the spells used on your parents.”

My heart clenches at the mention of my parents, the realization sinking in that I may never truly know their fate. “But I’m an orphan,” I protest, confusion clouding my thoughts. “How did I end up at the orphanage?”

The principal shakes her head, her brow furrowing in uncertainty. “I’m not entirely sure,” she admits, her voice tinged with regret. “But something tells me there’s more to your story than meets the eye. Someone may be tampering with your memories. With mine, too. I suspect a spell has been cast on both of us.”

I swallow hard, a lump forming in my throat as Celestia continues to unravel the mystery of my past. “What happened to my parents?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Celestia’s gaze grows distant as she recalls the tragic events of that fateful night. “They were in their final year of school,” she begins, her voice tinged with sorrow. “They were part of the elite society of the school, among the founding families. That is all I can remember about them.”

They had been so young, maybe a year older than me.

Than Gabriel.

I feel a knot tighten in my chest as Celestia describes the brutal fate that befell my parents. “Their bodies were found in the forest,” she continues, her words hanging heavy in the air. “Torn apart by claws, much like you had.”

Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as the weight of the revelation sinks in. My parents were taken from me in such a senseless act of violence. Their lives cut short before they could see me grow. “I just found out about them,” I murmur, my voice choked with emotion. “And now they’re gone.”

Celestia reaches out a hand, her touch gentle and reassuring. “I’m so sorry, Ophelia,” she says, her voice filled with genuine empathy. “I wish I had answers for you.”

A pang of longing courses through me as I realize I may never know where my parents are buried or why I seem to lack the magic that runs in my blood. “Why don’t I have magic?” I ask, my voice trembling with frustration.

Principal Celestia’s expression softens, sympathy etched in her features. “I’m not sure,” she admits, her tone apologetic. “But I promise you, Ophelia, I’ll do everything in my power to uncover the truth.”

Tears spill down my cheeks as the weight of my loss overwhelms me. “I just want to know the truth,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the sound of my own sobs.

Principal Celestia pulls me into a comforting embrace, holding me close as I let the grief wash over me.

I let my tears flow freely.

Eventually, as my sobs subside, she speaks, her voice gentle yet filled with resolve.

“You don’t have to share this with anyone if you’re not ready,” Celestia says, her words a soothing balm to my wounded heart.

I nod, grateful for her understanding. “I think I’ll tell Aurora,” I reply softly. “She’s been worried about me, and I trust her.”

Celestia smiles, a reassuring glimmer in her eyes. “That’s perfectly fine,” she says. “Aurora deserves to know, especially if she’s going to help us navigate through whatever’s happening.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the next revelation. “Where will Aurora stay?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly with apprehension.

Celestia’s expression grows thoughtful as she considers her response. “One of the fairies offered to share her room with her,” she explains. “But you’ll be moving in with the witches.”

My heart sinks at the thought of living among strangers, especially after the rocky start I had with them. “I... I’m not sure about that,” I murmur, my uncertainty palpable.

But Celestia offers me a reassuring smile. “I’ve arranged for you to have a private room,” she says. “You’ll be safe there, I promise.”

I nod, albeit reluctantly. The prospect of being isolated in a new environment fills me with both trepidation and a sense of guardedness. “Thank you,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

Celestia’s gaze softens, her concern evident as she places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’ll also work on finding out what happened to your magic,” she adds, her tone filled with determination.

I swallow hard, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. “I appreciate that,” I reply, my voice tinged with gratitude.

As we make our way to House Mystique, my new hostel, I can’t shake the feeling of unease that grips me. But I convince myself that I will be fine.

The Principal is never wrong, after all.

I spend the rest of the day settling into the room. It’s bigger than the one I shared with Aurora, and I find a strange comfort in the extra space. Nurse Aria brings me lunch and dinner, and her presence is a welcome distraction from the swirling thoughts in my mind.

After she leaves, there’s a knock on the door. I open it, expecting to see Aurora, but to my surprise, it’s Gabriel. My heart skips a beat at the sight of him. He asks how I am, his voice gentle yet filled with concern. I nod, inviting him in. He sits on my chair, facing me, and for a moment, we just look at each other, the air thick with unspoken words.

“It’s been a while,” he says, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

I smile sadly, the weight of the past few days pressing down on me. “I understand,” I reply softly. “You have your responsibilities.”

He looks uneasy, shifting in his seat. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice hesitant.

I sigh, knowing there’s more to his question than meets the eye. “Just say what’s really on your mind, Gabriel,” I say, meeting his gaze.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. “There have been rumors,” he begins, his voice low. “Students are scared. They think it might be an inside job.”

I feel a pang of fear in my chest, the implications of his words sinking in. I tell him about what the principal told me about my parents’ deaths and the attack on me. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close as I let the tears fall.

“I’m so sorry, Ophelia,” he murmurs, his voice filled with regret. “I wish I could have been there for you.”

I bury my face in his chest, clinging to him as if he’s the only anchor in the storm of my emotions. “It’s not your fault,” I whisper, my voice muffled by his shirt.

I look up, and his eyes are intense, filled with something I can’t quite decipher. When did we get into this position? Somehow, I’m now sitting in his lap. My heart races as he leans in, and I close my eyes, anticipating his kiss. But it never comes.

Confused, I open my eyes to find him looking at me, his expression almost pained. I reach out, cupping his cheek gently, and ask, “What’s wrong?”

He hesitates, his voice barely a whisper as he speaks. “I’m engaged to Isabella.”

The words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest, knocking the wind out of me. Engaged? To Isabella? The realization sinks in, and I feel a dull ache spreading through me.

How did I not know this before?

Is this why he was staying away?

I search his eyes, trying to find some explanation, some reassurance that this isn’t true. But all I see is the truth reflected back at me, and it’s like a knife to the heart.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice filled with regret. “I should have told you sooner.”

I shake my head, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Hurt, betrayal, longing—all tangled up together in a confusing mess.

“It’s okay,” I say, trying to sound brave and push down the rising tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “I understand.”

But do I really?

Can I really just brush this off and pretend like it doesn’t matter?

Deep down, I know the answer, but I’m not ready to face it just yet.

He reaches out, his hand brushing against mine, and for a moment, I want to pull away, to put up walls to protect myself from the pain. But I can’t. Despite everything, despite the hurt and the betrayal, there’s still a part of me that wants him, that craves his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, his voice filled with sincerity. “I never meant to hurt you.”

I nod, swallowing back the tears threatening to spill over. “I know,” I reply softly, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. “It’s not your fault.”

But deep down, I know it is. Deep down, I know that we’ve both made mistakes, that we’ve both hurt each other in ways that can’t be undone.

As he pulls me into a hesitant embrace, I let myself lean into him, just for a moment, seeking solace in the warmth of his arms. But even as I do, I know that this is goodbye.

This is the end of whatever fragile connection we might have had.