Side Effects

16 - Cold, Early Morning

With a face plastered in its usual misery, Chief Kirralain rapped on the door of number fourty-one Acresville Road.

Standing in the morning frost, she impatiently awaited an answer from the other side. Again, she knocked and rung the doorbell, hearing a muffled noise from the windless indoors.

Almost immediately, the ending of the ring was taken by the jangling of keys, unlocking what was betwixt the two. Even through tinted glass, Ursa could clearly see that whoever was unlocking the door was not who she wanted to see. Regardless, she stood her ground as she met the caramel eyes of her employee's wife.

"Can I help you?"

A young woman, wrapped in a cosy coral dressing gown and holding her two-month old son. Holding the tiny son in one forearm, she rubbed the dark circles under her eyes. Ursa realised just how abnormally miniature this child was.

Without an extra second of wait, Ursa fired in with her demand.
"Ursa Kirralain, Chief of Police. I want to speak to Lee Barnabus about something urgent."

Looking behind herself and then back at Ursa, she woke up from a second's daydream.
"Yes, of course. How rude of me to leave you standing... come in."

Obeying the woman she had so often complained with her husband about, she moved aside and allowed her into the warmth and comfort of the Barnabus household.

"Lee..." Mrs Barnabus lead Ursa into the living room, where Lee Barnabus was sprawled out on the sofa, watching the only channel on the television - the news. Wearing casual clothing was not what Ursa was used to seeing him wearing; it was not what he was used to, either. It had been a while since he had been given a week off work - or any days, for that matter.

His wife notified him of Ursa's appearance, and the Chief crossed into the living room without another word to this woman, shutting the door and leaving her out of their conversation.

"Well, look just what flew in." He stated sarcastically, leaning back and muting the television. "So, what brings you to our house to grace us with your joyful presence?"

Noticing her blunt facial expression and her sly squint, he raised his hands in the air jokingly.

"I've decided to bring you back onto the case." The Chief informed, ignoring his remark.

Barnabus grinned, knowing the likability of this occurrence was strong. There was never a case himself, Ursa and Tyche had not taken since Tyche's arrival, and even before then, Barnabus had stayed under the Chief's wing (in hopes of a promotion he was never awarded).

"Lex?" Barnabus called to his wife, and she answered. "Could you brew us a coffee?"

Within a few minutes, discussing the details of his reassignment, Alexa Barnabus cautiously walked into the room with two mugs of coffee - one for Lee, and one for herself. Ursa did not appear impressed by this, but she did not complain. Smiling quite triumphantly and suddenly dropping her expression when Ursa faced her, Alexa shuffled on the sofa close to her husband.

"Don't you have a son to look after?" Retorted Ursa spitefully. Barnabus wrapped an arm around Alexa.

"Let her stay, Ursa. You've been rude to her enough already, and quite frankly, it's unnecessary and unneeded. Now, are we discussing this or not?"

Sneering, Ursa continued the conversation where it broke off.
"Come back to the station eight o'clock tomorrow and I'll fill you in."

"Can't you do that now? What have you found, exactly?"
"Can't say outside of the station, Barnabus."
"Can I at least have the rest of the week off? I haven't been with my son enough because of work."
"Nine o'clock tomorrow then."
"Chief!"

"It's urgent business, Barnabus. If you don't want the job, then don't come in at all."

And with that, Ursa exited the room, slamming the front door and leaving her shivering aura behind.

Slowly sipping on her coffee, Alexa picked up on the noise of their son crying again - he had been asleep a few minutes ago. Sighing, getting up on her feet to travel to the cot, Lee followed.

Little Jack Barnabus, wailing with a yell that could wake the dead. Lee reached into the cot and picked him up, the lightness of him always taking him by surprise. Stroking his son's jet black hair, the very same beauty as Alexa's, he smiled, his white teeth illuminating the room.

"I think he woke up when the wicked witch left the building." He joked.

***

Shivering in her bed, Cherie opened one eye to the empty bedroom around her. Gabby, who she had shared a bedroom with despite them being grown adults, had left long ago, and did so quietly that Cherie did not notice her leaving.

Cherie moved her head as another chill ran through her veins, staring bluntly at an outstretched hand drenched in a cold sweat. What was the dream she had again? Who's hand had she been holding?

Forcing every strength within her arms, she pushed herself to a low, terribly-postured sitting position. Ignoring the dry red hair splayed in front of her face, Cherie rested her eyes for a moment, wishing to go back to that dreamland and see what was to become of it.

She had been running through streets, and though it was a dream, it had tired her real body. The strangest thing, however, was her inability to pinpoint the location. She had never passed a place like it, but this dream was so vivid - so life-like - that it almost felt like it was a place that existed.

In time, she remembered another detail. Curiously, she had not been called Cherie Insima-Jones - the name that had stuck with her since treatment. What she had been named... even she couldn't say. It was just a mix of vowels and consonants jumbled into a morphing, distorted word that she couldn't quite describe nor remember.

After the echoes of the name had left her, she continued running over seasons, quickly becoming more and more sick, starving and dirty as time went by. All she did was stare down as her own decaying feet as she ran.

Though the seasons had changed, her skin was as it was that morning. It made her realise that in the dream's beginning, she had been a child.

Endlessly running across months within seconds, Cherie was at a dead end, formed as a large, white building, complete with tinted blue glass and curious architecture. Through a slate of tinted glass, she had seen her face, skeletal and filthy, crying back at her, wondering how life had become this way.

Flash forward to the building's interior. The towering, circular room with human-sized capsules sticking out of the wall's gaps. For some reason, and Cherie could never place why, this moment in the dream made her feel hopeful, grinning at the strange contraptions in this strange area.

A feeling as if something new would begin; as if she was about to be reborn into a better life than this.

Someone had a grip on her hand - she could not make out who, but they were wearing white, as if they were a ghost of the past guiding her to what she needed to know. Willingly, she went with the mystery person, beaming. Walking into a bright light, lying on her back, she heard a close. The blurs of every moment coming to a relaxation.

She was inside the capsule. Her arms strung up, injected with a strange kind of liquid, a heart monitor racing at her panic, fifty needles injecting her legs and feet, fifty more up her body. She yelled. Unfamiliar coarse screeches that came from her very own voice shook her to the bone.

A speaker within the claustrophobic space spoke to her.
"You should be able to lose consciousness soon, don't worry."
A ray of light travelled up her body once the voice had assured her, but another thought seized her.

"Wait... wait, I don't.... I don't actually need the treatment! I don't have Somnesia! I don't! I don't.... I....."

And that was when Cherie opened one eye to the empty bedroom around her. Cherie moved her head as another chill ran through her veins, staring bluntly at an outstretched hand drenched in a cold sweat.

What was the dream she had?

A memory of her past life.