Chapter III: Promise me

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Oi, stop ignoring me. Oi, Brat? Are you listening to me, brat?

Rosella tried to shut out the voice with a pillow, until stupidly realizing that she would probably suffocate long before it would have decided to stop speaking. Yet, in hindsight, perhaps that would have been too easy. The voice, whatever it was, showed no signs of stopping and continually prodded for her attention. No matter what she did; plugging her ears, tossing a pillow over her head, even hiding herself beneath her bed sheets. It did not deter this voice and it's incessant chattering seemed as if it would never end. It was not until an exhausted and exasperated Rosella, threw back her bed covers in disgust and sat upright, squinting in the general direction of the voice. While she normally would have had a snappy remark, or retaliated physically after being wound up as so, there was just one minuscule detail:

Whatever or whoever was talking, could not be seen. At all.

What was she going to do? Start fighting something she could not even see? That seemed idiotic at best. At worst....well: she didn't really want to think about that portion. Nevertheless, it would not let her be until she responded to it, and as terrified as she was, the constant vocal prodding vexed her greatly. All she wanted to do, was lie back down and sleep all her worries away. The voice had other ideas however, but before it could utter another word, Rosella decided it was time to put it's infantile nagging to rest. 

"What. Do. You. Want?!" She spat, her voice was venomous, but the intimidating nature was only partially ruined by her trembling lower lip.

Standing up to Catarina was one thing, as she could get away with backhanded insults and if need be she could physically defend herself from the wench. Not so much with this character however. There was no answer to her question for a bit, and Rosella wondered if it finally decided to leave her be. Yet somehow, she could not bring herself to fully believe so. Her thin fingers grasped and twisted the faded quilt as she anxiously waited for something, anything in response. 

Nothing.

Not a single word in utterance, no noise. Nothing at all. Just pure, unsettling silence to keep her fat paranoia well fed.  Minutes ticked on by, her hunched position on the bed did not change, as she desperately tried to will herself to believe this was all merely a hallucination brought on by her overactive imagination and stress from the earlier events. When she received no reply, she let out a breath that she did not realize she was holding in from all the anticipation.  It was stupid, she thought. The voice must have been a figment of her imagination. With that in mind, she eventually settled back under the covers, to get the much needed sleep she deserved. Her eyelids felt as if they weighed tons, and as they fluttered shut once more, the nuisance finally acknowledged her.

Trying to sleep again? I don't think so.

As if the voice, who was quite literally right by her ear was not infuriating enough for her, she felt something viciously jabbing her cheek as well. This was all too much for Rosella, who just wanted a decent night's sleep. Was this her punishment for giving Catarina a much deserved beating? It was self defense, anyone with half a braincell would have agreed. Well, everyone except her halfwit of an older brother. No hope for that one at all, though at that moment she would have welcomed his presence instead. Rosella remained still, like a frozen corpse. She dared not even breathe, even as she continued to be pinched and prodded. Perhaps, she thought, if she played dead, it would lose interest in her. After all, if some animals can do that, why couldn't she? 

Look, you and I both know you're not really asleep. The joke's not funny anymore.

Well, there went that idea. She debated on still playing possum, just to be snarky, but decided against it. Angering the house help and fellow human beings were one thing, but she would not be taking her chances with an unseen creature. Whatever this thing was. She threw back the covers, albeit with much less grace than she had wanted, and turned her face in the direction where she believed the voice was. She tired to imagine what sort of creature it was. What did it even look like for starters. Was it tall? Utterly hideous? Was it making rude gestures at her because she blatantly implied it was unwanted here? Probably. If it had no qualms about poking her like some fascinating new animal, she wouldn't have put that past it. Nonetheless, these constant pauses began to wear on her patience and before the voice spoke, she got right down to business. 

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