Falling

Chapter 3: We Only See Each Other At Weddings And Massacres

 'I wonder what kind of dream this is,' Belle contemplates. She feels warmth flow over her as if fluid and attempts to open her eyes, nothing. She endeavors to lift her hand to no avail. She probes her mind for the will to panic and finds that she's too debilitated to even care. 'Ah, well. Maybe I can drift here a bit longer.' It was, to all intents and purposes, a pretty serendipitous dream in contrast to her thoughts before dozing the night before. Belle rests there, buoyant in darkness, her senses reverting to her inchmeal.

Initially, Belle attained her ears. The faint sloshing of liquid infiltrated her brain as though someone had set out to transport and pour water unobtrusively. As she listened, she grew vaguely aware of something brushing against her skin. 'A dress?' She deliberated. 'Yes, it must be. How soft.' This gown was of better grade than anything she'd ever adorned in her life. If she was unsure that she was dreaming before, she unquestionably wasn't now. The only way she could afford something like this would be if she'd stolen it, and she was no highwayman.

Forthwith came the cognizance that she wasn't hovering after all. The girl was definitely lying supine in bed; nevertheless, it was no wonder she was thought to be suspended. Her mattress had to be the softest thing in all existence. Hell, this bed is probably where clinomania originated. Even the dress she wore blanched in parallel. 'Seriously, where the hell am I?' Her right pinky finger twitched, then her ring digit, the rest following shortly after. 'Okay. Slight progress is still progress.' Belle takes a deep breath, converging all energy on her movement. By the time her advancement approaches her shoulders, she's apt to open her eyes.

Belle finds herself gaping at a vaulted, white marble canopy. Her eyes track a flurry of colored stars, their patterns making the beautiful room appear even more idyllic. She blinks, striving to purge the fogginess that afflicted her. 'They're still there. I've properly lost my mind.' The lights resembled fireflies, their colors that of gemstones. The scintillas' movements quickened, as though excited (or caffeinated). A firefly glowing a brilliant blue plunged from the ceiling, moving closer to her face. As the firefly approached, its form became more apparent. 'Yep. I've unmistakably, 100% lost it.'

It appeared to be a person, no more than two inches tall. It seemed to be feminine. Her skin resembled cold ivory that professedly sparkled with sapphires, her hair a pure silver. Its eyes were frightful; an obsidian black, moving, writhing as though a demon dwelled within. Its body was wrapped in a form-fitting armor. Upon closer inspection, her armor reflected blues and greens, purples and reds. 'Alexandrite?' She asked herself, referring to one of the most precious gemstones in the world. 'Impossible. There isn't that much of it on the entire planet.' It stared her in the eye, unflinching, head tilted, seemingly expecting something of her.

'Alright, enough of this. Time to wake up.' Unsatisfied by what it'd saw in Belle's eyes, the tiny being darted back up to join her brethren on the ceiling. A trail of shimmering dust fell from its wings onto Annabelle as it flew above her. The second it grazed her skin, Belle felt power and euphoria flood into her. She pinched her thigh and, when no change ensued, sat up, digesting her surroundings. Belle was enveloped in beauty.

Walls didn't hold up the roof. Instead, thick, pure gold pillars wrapped in ivy spanned the 40-foot length from the top to the white marble floors. Unlike the pristine, unpigmented ceiling, the ground had thick veins of silver, gold, and onyx swirled throughout. Beyond the wall-less room, a brilliant blue sky stretched as far as her eyes could see. Far off, Belle could hear the sound of children playing.

"Am... Am I in Heaven?" Belle pondered, unknowingly speaking out loud. A melodious giggle reaches her ears from surprisingly nearby. "Heaven? Surely, you've stayed on earth too long, Mistress." A girl, no older than 13, stood before her. She had pale, white skin, and her tiny body was wrapped in what seemed to be rose petals; pinks, whites and, reds all weaved together. The girl's strawberry blonde hair cascaded just past her shoulders in delicate, flowing waves.