Phobos had quite the headache when she woke up, so she did not immediately recall what had happened the night before, nor know that more than just her head was aching. She was used to having headaches, after all; she would frequently get a headache in the mornings after passing out due to exhaustion. It also didn't help that she had the flu, but she did not know that either; by all means, Phobos experienced all the symptoms of a regular cold, from the stuffiness to the headache, to the very odd feeling she had in her stomach which made her feel as if she needed to, well, she didn't really know what she needed to do.
Perhaps she should clear her throat, she thought, since she was getting a headache from silence. She opened her mouth, knowing that she probably looked ridiculous with it agape and drool leaking out, but the sound of an awful gagging noise left her mouth instead. Her eyes widened further than they probably should have and her eyes would have bulged out of her head if it were possible. Gasping, she quickly used her arms to cover her mouth, her bright blue eyes brimming with horror at the sound that had just come out of her mouth. Oh, dear heavens, what was wrong with her?
Still, in the back of her mind, she was wondering why she was in a strange room. She couldn't remember much of the previous night, but she could remember feeling too sick to walk to her own bedroom, so she had curled up against the wall in the hallway. Her position perfectly proved to her what she had suspected; fog slowly cleared from her brain and she realized that she was not in her bedroom. The room was completely unfamiliar to her and she couldn't come up with any explanation as to how she got there.
Lighting a candle with an old match stick, Phobos crawled out of the bed and lifted the candle up. She squinted at the light, since she hadn't seen it in a few days, and laid her hand on the mantle, staring at her reflection in the mirror instead.
She really needed a bath.
She yelped in surprise when she saw her hand disappear into the mirror. She quickly pulled back her hand, not sure what to think. She looked at her hand for a moment, before tentatively putting it closer to the mirror. She could still see her hand, though it looked a bit distorted. She could see her hand, but she couldn't feel it. Tentatively, she touched her face again with the tip of her fingers. It felt exactly the same as if she was touching the mirror. She blinked in confusion and stared at the mirror.
"Am I dead?" she asked herself, to no one in particular, "Is this heaven?"
She didn't think she was dead; heaven looked nothing like the room that she was currently in, but on the other hand, she never expected to end up in a strange room in the first place. She shrugged her shoulders and turned the candle off, deciding that she didn't really care, seeing as how she had been invisible last time she tried to bathe.
It was then that she realized that she was in an indecent state, and cursed the person who brought her to the room in the first place. She quickly dressed herself, pulled out a comb and some hair pins, and began to undo her dark braid. She undid the braid carefully, grimacing at the amount of knots in her hair.
It was barely morning, but Phobos knew that she was awake now. She decided to survey what the room had to offer for food and stumbled over the contents of the table next to her bed. It swung on the hinges with a loud squeak, the sound resounding in her ears due to the dead silence. For some reason, the room was dark, though it wasn't so bad to the point where she couldn't see where she was going. The odd feeling in her stomach returned and she realized that she was hungry. She decided to use that as her excuse to search around the room when she was done getting undressed.
She made her way toward the kitchen, stumbling around in the darkness, tripping over a table. She quickly caught herself, swearing loudly until she was sure that the owner of the house drifted off to sleep again. The odd emptiness of the house was getting to her and she couldn't understand why the owner insisted on keeping the windows open in the middle of winter. The window was open and the bitter cold air blew in, chilling her to the bone. She shivered as she rubbed her hands together, walking further into the kitchen.
It was dark, with only one candle sitting in the middle of the table. The one candle illuminated the room only slightly, providing just enough light for her to see around the mostly empty room. She easily picked up the candle and lit it, not having to fumble with the matches in the dark. The burning candle provided enough light to see the room in complete detail. She opened the cabinets to see what she could find to eat and frowned at the lack of food. She found nothing of value except a bag of old flour, and she decided that it might taste like bread if she was lucky. She ran a hand through her messy hair and sighed loudly. The headache was getting worse and worse and the cold air really didn't help any.
She made her way back to her room and found her coat, which was neatly folded up on the other side of the bed. She stared at the coat for a moment, wondering when the person who brought her into the room returned it, or why. She then realized that it didn't really matter; she needed to go out and get something to eat, lest she faint from hunger again.
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