Valence 1-1

Noun: Used to describe the amount of attraction or repulsion by people, either toward each other or an event.

Valence TOC

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Consciousness ignites, albeit weakly: a flame struggling to burn. Languid, dark waters bear the flame, keeping it afloat, rocking almost imperceptibly. The flame gains in strength and starts to blaze. Waters recede, reluctant to loosen their hold.

*Ahh, there you are, little one.*

Sensation begins to return to my arms and legs. My fingers and toes are next to awaken. I feel my eyes twitch behind closed lids. A light buzzing sound massages the inside of my skull, and with it, a quiet voice speaks through an open door in my cerebrum.

"Last chance, Farina. Play by the rules. Bring him back."

The words alight in my brain, but quickly start to slip through the rifts in my awareness before I can catch them. Meaningless images hover at the forefront of my mind, insisting that I decode them.

"Bring who back? Is it me?"

With a sharp clap and a rush of wind through my ears, I surface. My jumbled thoughts come into focus. The warning from the distant voice is clear now, and with it, a sick feeling of unease that makes me cringe. I push that aside and focus on breathing calmly before I open my eyes. I could be anywhere. I have to be ready for anything.

I register the sounds of shuffling and bustling about. My lids crack enough to let in a muted daylight. No specific details of my surroundings stand out to me yet, but I do see dark blurs moving to and fro.

The buzzing sounds in my head again, nudging me on. I sigh and open my eyes, squinting against the light.

The room is a bland gathering area, perhaps a dining hall, with gray walls and dull blue carpet. Chairs and tables fill every empty spot on the floor - four chairs to each round, white table. In the middle of each table is a white vase containing a dozen white roses.

The afternoon sunlight comes streaming in through big windows along the walls, getting caught and reflecting off of rows of string lights dangling from the ceiling.

"What the hell?"

The question comes out of my mouth before I can think to stop it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that a figure in a dark uniform has heard me and is headed my way. I keep my eyes moving about the room, looking for an exit.

The static whir reverberates in my head with a faint call underneath it, "Farina! Stay focused."

I hesitate for a moment more before the call comes again, harsher this time, "GET MOVING."

The figure has reached me now and is speaking but I'm not listening. I'm still taking in the expanse of the room when I notice the weight my body is supporting. Something is hanging from the lower half of my body and every time I breathe, there is the quiet hiss of fabric rubbing together. I look down and immediately let out a string of curses.

Buzz, buzz.

Groaning, I gather up two handfuls of beaded, lacy fabric and sprint, loudly swishing all the way. Peeking down, I can see two white slippered feet darting out from beneath the skirt.

“At least the shoes won't get in the way.”

Buzz, buzz.

The plates of my skull vibrate with the intrusive hum.

"I know, I know. Find Paul."

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