Museum Studies

Who are You?

Roberta's head hurt.

Roberta's head hurt and the scar on the back of her left hand stung like she was pressing it against a heating element.

Roberta's head hurt and the scar on the back of her hand stung like she was pressing it against a heating element and her eyelids felt like lead shutters and her mouth was dry and her ears were ringing and her skin was burning like she was being boiled alive and her bones felt too heavy for her limbs. Slowly, she opened her eyes, feeling the eyelids peel apart like orange segments. Above her was a bright light, and as her hazy eyes focused on her surroundings, she saw that she was in a hospital bed. She was in one of those horrible papery gowns that hospitals make you wear, the ones that feel like they're made of teabags. An IV was stabbed into her arm, under her Mayan calendar tattoo, and her left hand was wrapped in gauze.

"Ah, Miss Zombie! You're awake!" A nurse smiled, seeing the curator stir in her hospital bed. "You've been in a coma for four days, and you've been running a high fever. We didn't know if you'd make it, but you stabilised yesterday, and I'm glad that you've pulled through."

Roberta was incredibly confused? A coma? Then it all came rushing back to her- the fight with Mark, the arrow, fainting outside the museum. Weirdly, that screechy voice in her head was silent, but Roberta was reeling from what had happened at the museum.

Mark had hit her.

He had never loved her. He could never have loved her if he would so easily hurt her like that.

That stranger had been right, Mark had been a bad guy all along! How could she have been so stupid?!

Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of how stupid she had been, fawning over a man who treated her so badly. They say that hindsight is alway crystal clear, and Roberta was currently having a revelation as she sat up groggily in bed.

He used me. He manipulated me and abused me, and made me think it was love.

Her mind was still full of the insecurities planted there by Mark, but Roberta was snapped out of her thoughts by the nurse checking her temperature.

"It seems that your temperature's back to normal. Anyway, you've got some friends waiting to see you."

As soon as the nurse had said they could come up, Kylie burst into the room, accompanied by Valerie, who was holding a tupperware container of her grandmother's chicken matzo soup. Mr Joestar and Mr Kakyoin walked behind them, looking worried and yet relieved.

"Roberta, we were so worried when they said you'd collapsed outside work." Kakyoin said, taking off his glasses and sitting by her bedside. "I'm going to give you the rest of the week off, and me and JoJo are just upstairs if you need us. I've also called your parents so that they know where you are."

"Thanks, boss." Roberta said with a smile. Maybe it was her brain being fuzzy from the coma, but Kakyoin seemed to have some kind of green aura around him. Jotaro had a purple one, and nobody else in the ward did except for Kylie, who had a pink one. Looking down, there appeared to b a greenish aura over the bandaged cut on her left hand.

"We told the police about what that scumball did. His parents are hiding him because they've got a good lawyer, but the minute they can, the police said they're going to prosecute him." Valerie said, placing the Tupperware into the microwave. Roberta sighed with relief, knowing that although Mark was in hiding, there was still a search for him. God, the idea of him finding her again was horrifying, but she took some comfort in the knowledge that he hopefully wouldn't get away with this.

"Anyway, when my bubble heard you were in hospital she told me to bring up some chicken soup. I told her you were on IV, but she claimed that I could just sneak it into the IV bag." Valerie added with a laugh. The microwave pinged, and she handed over the hot, steaming container to Roberta. Having been without solid food for four days, she devoured the soup with a ravenous hunger.

"And I got you some cookies!" Kylie smiled, pulling a packet of raspberry Tim Tams out of her bag. They were Roberta's favourites, but incredibly hard to find in the USA.

"How did you find these?" She grinned.

"I'm just lucky, I guess." Kylie replied, fiddling with her blonde hair. It was true- Kylie seemed to be a magnet for good luck and fair fortune. It may have just been her addled brain, but Roberta saw Kylie's pink aura flash as she mentioned being lucky.

After an hour, the visitors headed home. Roberta decided to take a shower, as she was feeling gross after four days in bed. But even as she stood under the luxurious hot water, her mind was filled with worries. What if Mark came back? What if the judge said he wasn't guilty? What if he hurt her again?

"Easy, Bobbie..." Roberta muttered to herself, her pink hair hanging down in the steamy wetness of the wet room. Her scar throbbed and itched, even whilst wrapped in the waterproof glove she was provided with for washing, and it felt like something was trying to get out.

"Why can't I be strong?" Roberta gasped, feeling her chest seize up. "Why can't I protect myself?!"

There was a burst of energy, as if she was struck by the arrow again, and something burst forth from behind her. Roberta turned her head, to see a floating figure facing her. It appeared to be a green-skinned feminine figure, wrapped in bandages like a mummy. This was no inhabitant of a tomb, though- the bandages formed a short dress with long sleeves, a scarf, boots, and a kind of blindfold. Long, oily black hair flower from the thing's head, golden ankh earrings hung in it's ears, Egyptian jewellery decorated it's wrists and neck, and it had sharp white fangs. The thing looked like some kind of mummy monster girl, and it gave a little screech as it broke free.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Roberta screamed, yet her voice was muffled to passers-by by the thunder of shower water. She curled up in a corner, naked and afraid.

"Seriously? I'm part of you!" The mummy-thing sniffed. It sounded just like that screechy voice in her head. Wait...

"Are you that voice in my mind?" Roberta asked, standing up again.

"Yeah, I'm a personification of your fighting spirit. You should know this, though! I'm part of you! When I'm hurt, you're hurt!"

The spirit shook it's head, and stared at it's owner.

"Well, aren't you going to give me a name?"

"A name?"

"Yeah! So whenever you're in trouble, you call out my name and I protect you! I mean, I am your fighting spirit. I dunno what my powers are yet, but you can do the legwork. I'll just whack stuff and yell a repetitive noise."

"But what am I supposed to call you? You're some kind of ghostly living dead girl...."

"Living Dead Girl? I like that. Now, why don't you find someone who knows about this stuff so they can tell us what it is that I do? I've been dormant since you were born, but now you're officially my user." Living Dead Girl said, admiring herself in the mirror. "I'm sentient to a slight degree, but you're going to have to find someone who knows about dormant fighting spirits, because you've got the physical body."

And with that, LDG dissipated.

"A dormant spirit... How am I supposed to find out about that?" Roberta sighed, turning off the shower.

Then, something came to mind. As she was waiting for the gree light that one evening, that weird man in the bookshop- the one who'd been there when she fainted- what had he called her?

A dormant user!