Unmedicated

I never thought this would happen. My parents leave me home alone for only three hours and I manage to miss a dose of my medication. Normally I would just go ahead and take it, but it's now two and a half hours past the time I was supposed to take it, and taking it now would throw off my entire dosing schedule. 

I can hear my mother's nagging voice now: "Don't forget your medication, Vivienne! We won't be here to remind you to take it, and we can't text or call you where we'll be, either." 

"Mom, I'm an adult now. I think I can remember when to take my meds." I had said this almost dismissively, never once thinking that I would forget. 

Is there some sort of protocol for missing a dose? My hands are already shaking as I scramble for the prescription bottle to see if the fine print will tell me what to do. Take every six hours with a small snack or with a meal. Do not take more than four pills in twenty-four hours. Avoid prolonged exposure to the sun when taking this medication. Nothing. Maybe it's not that big of a deal? After all, they emphasize not to take more than four pills a day. It doesn't say anything about taking less than that.

I try telling myself that I'll be okay without it, but the way my hands are shaking is making me nervous. A wave of nausea overcomes me, and I stumble into the bathroom. I empty the contents of my stomach, and my body shakes uncontrollably. What is happening to me? I've never felt anything like this before.

It's almost a good twenty minutes before the nausea has passed and the violent shaking has stopped, leaving me feeling weak and breathless. I grab the edge of the counter and pull myself upright, the exertion making me shake once again, only not as wildly as before. Panting, I turn on the sink, the cold water pouring from the faucet so fast and hard it splashes up onto my arms. I thrust my hands into the stream of water then wash my face. Immediately I'm overcome by thirst, and I stick my head under the faucet, gulping at the ice-cold water.

The water doesn't wash away the taste of vomit completely, nor does it restore my energy, but I feel slightly better after drinking. I turn off the faucet and lean over the sink. I feel better, but I have no idea how long that will last. Should I call 911? I can't call my parents, after all. 

I look up at myself in the mirror and almost jump out of my skin. Is that my skin? It's blue! Well, blue-purple, anyway. I don't recognize my reflection at all. I reach up to touch my face, and my reflection does the same. I look at my hands, which, sure enough, are the same blue-purple as the ones in the mirror. Am I hallucinating now? Going insane?

I lean over, peering closer. It's not just my skin color that has changed. My entire facial structure is different. My jawline is sharper, my cheekbones more defined than I've ever seen. My lips are small and rounded, their color slightly darker than the rest of my skin. My ears are longer and come to a slight point. 

And my eyes! My eyes have no whites, but instead glimmer like precious stones. Their color is deep and complex, and looks like a blend of blue, green, and silver. My inspection of my eyes draws my attention to the skin on my face. Glowing, spidery veins of pink, purple, and red reach out from the corners of my eyes, branching out down my cheekbones.

And my hair has changed, too. What used to be shoulder-length, frizzy brown hair is now long, flowing locks of gold, with glittering strands of pink, blue, and silver highlighting it throughout.

"Wow," I breathe. "I'm--beautiful."

"You forgot to take your medicine, didn't you?" 

I whirl around at the sound of my father's voice. I'm surprised to hear it--my parents aren't supposed to be back for another two hours. But I'm surprised again when I see that there is no one here. I peer out the door, wondering if they are in the hall. But no, there's no one there. Puzzled, I head back into the bathroom.

"Vivienne," comes my father's voice again.

I nearly jump out of my new blue-purple skin. A faint image of my father is in the mirror, super-imposed over my own, strange reflection.

"Dad? What's going on?"

"You forgot your medicine, didn't you?" My father says again, and my third surprise is that he doesn't sound angry or disappointed, but instead sympathetic.

"Well, yeah," I admit, still marveling over the fact that I'm talking to my father through a mirror. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

"Your mother and I were hoping you wouldn't find out just yet," he says, answering my unasked question. 

"What am I?" I look at my arms, which now have the same glowing, spidery veins as my face. 

"You, your mother, and I were all born in another realm, known as 'Yggvalyth'." 

"Igg-val-ith?" Even as I try the taste of the foreign word on my tongue I know I haven't quite gotten it right. 

"We fled war in Yggvalyth shortly after you were born," he explains.

"So you used medication to make me appear human?"

"Not just you," he says. "But all of us. Humans are quite hostile to people different than them, after all."

I soak all of this in, trying to keep my head from spinning any more than it already is.

"So what now?" I ask.

He sighs and doesn't answer immediately.

"Dad?"

"Your mother and I..." he pauses, as if unsure how to answer. 

"What?"

"We think it's time to return to Yggvalyth."

"What? Why?"

Suddenly his image sharpens into focus and I can see his expression with frightening clarity. "It's time for you to reclaim the throne."