Chapter Text
River Moore woke up that morning because her pillow was trying to kill her.
At least, that's what it felt like in the moment. That horrible, yet familiar stabbing and burning sensation from under her shoulder blades plagued her upper back, yanking her forcefully from sleep. She groaned and rolled onto her side in an attempt to at least ease the pain. It did help with the ache...but it did not help with the stabbing feeling coming from her shoulder blades, or the ache in her head. It only made them both worse, she unfortunately found out. Everything ached like she had done a thousand pushups and run a marathon while she was asleep.
Again.
For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the dim ceiling of her room. The early morning light filtered through her curtains in soft, dusty stripes, illuminating the floating specks in the air. Her room was quiet. The kind of quiet that made her feel like she was the only person awake in the entire world. Normally she liked that. Today, it made her feel small.
"Great," she muttered bitterly. "Love that for me..." She sighed before groaning again when her alarm had gone off. Now it was officially time to get up...
Her alarm went off, shrill and unforgiving. She slapped at it blindly until it shut up, then let her hand fall limply onto her blanket. She didn’t move for a long moment. She didn’t want to. Her body felt like it was made of wet sand. Heavy, sluggish, and uncooperative.
'Damn it...' River thought to herself, contemplating whether it was worth getting up or not. 'I really was hoping that this would've gone away by now.' They pondered, lazily glancing around her room.
She slowly pushed herself upright, wincing as her back protested. Her room came into focus: the soft pink walls, the fairy lights draped over her bookshelf, the stuffed animals arranged neatly on her bedframe. Everything was cute, comforting, familiar. Everything except her own body. It felt strange today.
She put her hands in front of her face and groaned into them, hoping the sound wouldn’t wake her parents. Her palms were warm against her cheeks. She stayed like that for a moment, breathing slowly, trying to gather herself. She sat up slowly and stretched her arms forward. Her back gave a satisfying 'pop ', and she felt a bit better. It wasn't perfect, but she at least would be able to function for a while. She moved through her morning routine on autopilot. Shower. Lotion. Clothes. She chose an especially cute outfit today. A white collared blouse, a matching knee-length skirt, pink socks, brown mary-janes, and her slightly more vibrant pink cardigan. She braided her brown curls into two neat braids, tied them with white-and-pink bows, and clipped her bangs back with little heart-shaped barrettes.
She stared at her reflection for a long moment. She looked cute. She did. But she didn’t feel cute. She felt like a cracked porcelain doll someone had glued back together wrong.
She checked her watch.
'6:46 AM '
Her eyes widened. She’d woken up extra early today. Normally she’d be thrilled, more time to get ready, more time to breathe, but today it just meant more time to feel tired.
“Oh well… more time to make tea,” she mumbled.
She padded into the kitchen, the tile cold under her feet. The house was still and dark, her parents asleep behind their closed door. She moved quietly, heating water, steeping two tea bags, adding so much sugar and milk that it barely tasted like tea anymore. The familiar ritual soothed her a little.
She poured the mixture into her cute, pink, heavily decorated thermos and tucked it into her backpack’s side pocket.
The backpack felt heavier than usual. Or maybe she just felt weaker.
Her thoughts suddenly became very bored, and slightly sad at the thought of school. Harper Highschool was her own personal hell. 'At least its Friday.' She thought, slightly more hopeful. Before she could get too into her head though, she snapped herself out of it to focus on the task at hand. She heated the water, put in the tea bags, steeped it, took out the tea bags (she usually used 2), threw them away and added so much sugar and milk that it barely tasted of tea. She put that mixture into her cute, pink, and heavily decorated thermos, stuck it into the side pocket of her backpack and slung it over her shoulder.
It didn't help that she already had been having absolutely miserable upper back pain for the last few weeks, but lugging around a 15-pound bag didn't exactly help. She endured anyways and started her walk to school. The morning air was cool and crisp, brushing against her cheeks. The sky was a soft blue, streaked with pale clouds. Birds chirped somewhere overhead. Normally she loved mornings like this, the quiet and gentleness of early morning and the beauty of the sunrise. Today it felt like walking through molasses.
Her phone pinged with a message, snapping her out of a daze.
'Jada: yo dude if u dont get ur ass ovr here we're leaving u in the hall '
River checked the time on her phone.
'7:23 AM '
She was going to be late. This was only her fourth day of high school for god's sake!
River Moore had only been a high school freshman for four days, and she already felt like she was unraveling. Not in a dramatic, life-is-over way. More like a sweater snagging on a nail - tiny threads pulling loose, one by one, until she wasn’t sure what shape she was supposed to be anymore. All the tiny micro-aggressions that people keep saying are 'nothing personal' feel like someone just stabbed her and then slapped a band-aid on it and called it a day. The hallways were too bright, making her eyes sore. The voices were too loud, making her already unbearable headache even worse. The air was too cold, so that even when she wore a sweater she was still shivering. Everything about the building felt designed to make her feel small, and she hated that she let it work. It felt like this entire place, or system, or whatever you want to call it was specifically designed to break people. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Who's to say anymore.
She adjusted the pink cardigan she’d chosen that morning and tried to ignore the two sophomore girls whispering behind her as she speedwalked down the hallways. "Is she trying to be cute...? Not gonna lie, it doesn't really suit her..." One of them half mumbled to the other. River's face grew hot as she walked as fast as she could without running. She felt tears prick her eyes...she had always been emotionally sensitive, despite having a high pain tolerance. A crybaby, most said. It wasn't unusual for something so mundane to get to her easily. Usually feeling cute and pretty helped her feel at home in her own skin, though that didn't always work. it's not like she could help it. Things just got to her, sticking on like annoying burrs.
River took out her thermos and took a long sip, hoping it would help her. Her back ached like she’d slept on a pile of rocks. And her head throbbed with a deep, pulsing pressure right at her hairline, like something was pushing outward. She tried not to think about it and just focus on getting to her friends before the second bell rung. She knew she was already too late for the first bell, and the second would ring 10 minutes later. Jada and Milo were waiting by her locker, just starting to walk away, and the moment she saw them, her shoulders dropped in relief.
"Hey! Wait for me!" She said, her voice coming out louder than she had meant it to, causing her head to throb. She rubbed her temples and took another swig of her thermos while catching up. Jada beamed, before a worried smile crossed her face. "Extra cute today, huh? Rough night?" She questioned, shooting Milo a look. He began digging through his bag for something that River could eat. River grumbled and nodded slightly, rubbing her temples to try and ease the ache. It did help a little, so that was good. Milo pulled out a granola bar and stuffed it into the same pocket as River's thermos.
"Here. You get weird when you're hangry." Milo said matter-of-factly, with a blank expression on his face. 'I'll eat it later...' River thought bitterly. Her stomach twisted at the idea of eating anything, the strange nausea that had been plaguing her all week making her ribs even more sore than they already felt. Jada playfully flicked his ear, and Milo winced, glaring at Jada as if she had murdered someone. That made River giggle a little, and the three got walking. They all had their first class together, same lunch, and same last periods, so they were all lucky they got along so well.
All her classes blurred together, teachers and students droning on like a constant fuzz in her ears. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton for most of the day, and she stared off into space often. River kept shifting in her seat, trying to ease the pressure in her back. It felt as if a stick or a metal rod had been shoved under her shoulder blades and left there. By lunch, she was exhausted; both mentally and physically. She sat down between Jada and Milo in the cafeteria, trying to make herself small. The smell of pizza and bleach mingled unpleasantly in the air, turning her stomach. Her ribs ached with every breath.
“You okay? You didn’t even grab anything. Not even applesauce.” Jada asked, nudging her tray closer. River blinked at the empty space in front of her. She hadn’t even realized she’d walked past the lunch line. River snapped out of her daze and stared at Jada with a tired gaze. “You’re doing that thing where you stare into the void.” River blanked for a few seconds before sighing. 'Yeah, I'm greattt. Having chronic shoulder, upper back pain and headaches is amazing!' She thought bitterly
She let out a huff of air and spoke softly. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a headache. And I wasn’t hungry." She lied. It wasn't a smooth lie by any means, but she knew her friends wouldn't push. Milo finally walked over, tray stacked with food. He sat on the other side of River and shoved his tray in right beside hers.
Milo snorted. “You’re never hungry. It’s weird.” Jada elbowed him. “Milo.” she said seriously, a glare tracing her face.
“What? It is.” He said, seemingly not bothered by Jada's expression.
River forced a laugh, but it came out thin. She picked at the corner of her napkin, tearing it into little pieces. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Jada leaned in, lowering her voice. “Hey. Seriously. You look like you’re about to pass out. Did you sleep at all?” River opened her mouth to lie again, to say she was fine, just tired, just stressed maybe, but the words stuck in her throat. Her head throbbed. Her back pulsed. Her vision blurred for a second, like the world had shifted sideways.
She swallowed hard. “I… I don’t know. I just feel off.”
Milo paused mid-bite, his expression softening in a way he’d never admit to aloud. “Like sick-off or… brain-off?”
“Both,” River whispered.
Jada reached across the table and squeezed her hand. Her palm was warm. Steady. Grounding. “We’ve got you. Just get through today, okay? It’s Friday. You can crash all weekend.” River nodded, blinking back sudden tears. She hated how easily she cried. Hated how fragile she felt. But Jada’s hand didn’t let go, and Milo quietly slid half his fries onto her tray without looking at her. She didn’t eat them. "...You look pale." He said flatly, looking River over a little and squinting indignantly at her. "Gee, thanks..." River said bitterly, glaring daggers at him. He put his hands up defensively and leaned back. "I'm just saying!" He whisper-shouted defensively.
River sat in class, her head resting on her arms and her face leaning softly into the wooden surface. She felt absolutely horrible. A couple seconds passed, and she suddenly heard the shrill beep at the bell. Time to leave for next period.
River ducked into the nearest bathroom the moment she turned the corner, letting the heavy door swing shut behind her. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, too bright, too cold, making the tiles look almost sterile. She gripped the edge of the sink and stared at her reflection. Her braids were still neat. Her bows still perfectly tied. Her cardigan still soft and pastel and exactly the kind of outfit that usually made her feel safe. But her eyes were glossy, and red rimmed. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Somebody had called her out and laughed at her for getting a wrong answer...and she felt so confident about it too. "Just a dumb girl!" they said. "A freak!" They said.
She swallowed hard.
“Don’t cry,” she whispered to herself. “Not over this.... over something so stupid." Her voice cracked and she grabbed her braids and tugged on them to try and make herself feel better. It didn't help and only made her headache worse. She pressed her palms to her eyes, willing the tears back. She wasn’t even sure what hurt more. The comment from the sophomore girls, the demeaning comments, being babied, the pounding in her skull, or the way her back felt like it was slowly splintering from the inside.
She took a shaky breath.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for her thermos, taking a long sip of tea. The warmth helped, but only a little. Her stomach twisted again, that strange nausea curling under her ribs. She leaned closer to the mirror, brushing her bangs aside. The pressure at her hairline pulsed, like something beneath the skin was pushing outward. She winced. “What is wrong with me…” she whispered.
She quickly sobered up when someone else came into the bathroom, and she pretended to be washing her hands. She felt hot with embarrassment, and quickly speedwalked out of the bathroom, and back to her next class. Algebra. Ugh.
The rest of the day passed in a haze. By the final bell, her brain felt like goo, her forehead felt like someone had bashed it in with a rock, and her back felt like it was bruising from the inside. She was absolutely miserable on the walk home. She walked home alone, the late-afternoon sun warming on her face pleasantly. Summer was her favorite season, and she was so glad that pool season would arrive soon. She loved swimming more than almost anything. Her neighborhood was quiet, and familiar. It felt safe.
She was almost home, when she passed Mr. Alder, tending to his garden. He was mostly normal by all accounts, but something about him always put River off. She wasn't quite sure what it was though, so she was polite anyways. He was an elderly man, nearly in his sixties, but he looked 30 years old and no more. Something about the ways his eyes caught the light always felt...weird, and he was constantly tending his garden. He wore his gloves, even on the hottest of days.
Mr. Alder’s garden was impossible to ignore. A riot of color and texture spilling over the edges of the walkway like it was trying to escape the confines of his yard. River had always thought it looked too alive, too intentional, like every bloom had been placed with the precision of a jeweler setting gemstones. Today, though, something about it tugged at her attention more than usual.
She slowed, her eyes drifting across the beds of flowers. Cornflowers, her favorite flowers aside from tulips, peeked out from between taller stalks, their bright blue petals trembling in the breeze. They weren’t common in this neighborhood. She’d never seen anyone else grow them. Yet here they were, clustered right along the edge of the path, almost as if they were waiting for her.
Next to them grew irises, deep purple and elegant, their petals curling like velvet ribbons. Jada’s flower. And just beyond that, a small bush of white roses, their petals soft and luminous in the afternoon sun. Milo’s flower. The three blooms sat together in a neat row, planted with care.
River frowned. She’d walked this route every day for years. She would have noticed this arrangement before… wouldn’t she?
Mr. Alder knelt in the dirt, trimming away dead leaves with a pair of shears that glinted too sharply in the light. His gloves were thick, worn, and stained with soil, but his movements were delicate, almost reverent. When he finally looked up, his eyes caught the sun in a way that made them flash not bright or reflective, but very much alive, like something strange was peering out from behind them.
“Afternoon, Miss River,” he said, his voice warm but edged with something she couldn’t place. “You’re lookin’ a bit peaked today.”
River forced a small smile. “Just tired.”
He hummed, low and thoughtful, and turned back to his flowers. “Mm. Tired can mean a lot of things.” She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she didn’t have the energy to ask. She shifted her backpack on her shoulder, wincing as the strap pressed against her aching back. Mr. Alder’s gaze flicked to the movement quick, and sharp. His expression softened, almost pitying. He reached out and gently touched one of the cornflowers, brushing a petal with the back of his gloved finger.
“Cornflowers,” he murmured. “Symbol of hope, hidden strength.”
River blinked. “I… didn’t know that.”
“Oh, lots of folks don’t,” he said with a small smile. “Flowers say things people often times don’t have the courage to.” He stood slowly, joints popping in a way that didn’t match his youthful face. He dusted off his gloves and gave her a long, searching look though not unkind, but heavy with meaning she couldn’t decipher for the life of her.
“You take care now,” he said softly. “And mind your back, sweetheart. Change has a way of hurtin’ before it helps.”
River’s breath caught. “What?” But he was already kneeling again, pruning shears clicking rhythmically as if the conversation had never happened. She hesitated, staring at the cornflowers swaying gently in the breeze. She tore her gaze away and hurried up the steps to her house, heart pounding.
River took the few steps up to her door and looked at the iron door knocker. She felt weirdly uncomfortable around it, so she just preferred to knock with her knuckles instead. Nobody opened up, as she had suspected. She took the long way around and went into her house through the back door. She dropped her bag behind her. and stumbled hastily to her room.
She faceplanted into her bed, not even bothering to take her shoes off at first. She eventually kicked them and her socks off and changed into cute pink pajamas. She laid back and tried to get comfy...the only thing she wanted right now was to go to sleep. River completely passed out a bit later that night...though the dull, warm throbbing of her back and head remained.
That night, River didn’t dream at first. She sank into sleep like a stone dropped into deep water, fast and heavy. But somewhere in the early hours of the morning, she began to dream softly. At first, she wasn't aware what was happening. She was aware she was dreaming...a lucid dream? River never had those, not once.
When she opened her eyes, she was standing in a forest that felt both impossibly strange and deeply familiar. Though, the forest barely looked like what she recognized it to be. The trunks of the trees swirled and twisted together unnaturally, the bark a bright white color with gold where old scars had healed over. The leaves were glowing slightly, shimmering like silver, The grass beneath her feet was soft and pale pink in color. The earth seemed to move slightly beneath her, having just enough give to feel like walking on soft warm sands. River felt more at home here than she had ever felt in her house.
River looked down to see the ground, and herself. She wasn’t wearing her pajamas. She wasn’t wearing anything she recognized. A long, flowing, layered dress of pale pink and white draped around her, the fabric floating around her like a leaf in the wind. The front of the skirt was shorter than the back, and it made her feel surprisingly pretty. Her hair fell long and loose down her back, brushing her waist. It gleamed in the soft light, thicker and healthier than it had ever been in waking life. She had only hoped to have hair thus beautiful on her own head. She touched a curl, marveling at the softness. A breeze brushed past her, carrying the faint scent of flowers she didn't recognize. They smelled sweet, like honey. Slightly earthy or nutty as well. They grew in clusters along the forest floor, glowing faintly. She walked up to one of the flowers springing and waving gently in the breeze, and smelled it tentatively, kneeling down. She felt like a princess, and it was wonderful.
She felt the urge to turn around, and so she did. River allowed herself to step on the soft grass and earth to see whatever she was being pulled towards. She saw a large, tall mirror resting against an old, gnarled tree. It was pristine, with sliver outlining. It looked impossibly pristine, untouched by time or weather. It looked like something you would find in a museum. She saw herself in it, as would be expected. But this version of her looked...different. It had brown and white feathered wings, with 2 smooth, ivory horns coming from atop her head. Its eyes were pure white, and it wore the same dress as her. It suddenly smiled softly and spoke to her in a gentle tone.
"Soon..." Its voice soothed. "Soon you will see, my dear."
River felt completely comfortable. Despite the strangeness of it all, she felt no alarm or fear towards anything around her. Soon, her eyes drifted closed in her soft dream, and they fluttered open in the morning light to see her regular room before her. The throbbing was back, but it felt warmer and less painful that usual.