The woman was not her mother.
Not because her face was different or her clothes were unfamiliar. But because Marilyn's real mother would never cry over her.
When Marilyn was nine, she dislocated her arm.
Her mother came home, looked at it, and pushed it back in place without saying anything.
She left Marilyn to cry alone.
When she was twelve, she needed surgery for appendicitis.
Her mother did not go with her.
Someone else dropped her off and picked her up weeks later.
When Marilyn came home, her mother was laughing with a man and two small children she had never seen before.
And when her mother noticed her, she simply excused herself, took Marilyn to her room and shut the door.
She didn't ask if she was hungry. She didn't ask about the surgery. She didn't say anything at all to even acknowledge what Marilyn had gone through alone.
So this woman who was still crying and rapidly drenching her with her tears, couldn't be her mother.
Just then the woman cupped Marilyn's face. "Arin… my sweet Arin… I thought I lost you."
Arin.
That was not her name.
"Don't cry, my sweet child. Julio is on his way. He will heal you."
Cry? I wasn't bloody crying.
She wanted to tell the woman that, but her mouth wouldn't move. Her body wouldn't respond. Yes, her vision blurred a few times, but that was because the woman was still crying all over her face.
If not… why would I be crying?
The woman brushed tears off Marilyn's cheek with shaking fingers. "Julio will come soon… he'll make the pain go away. He will heal you. Just hang on a little more. Don't close your eyes, Arin."
Marilyn mind scrambled but she didn't get a chance to think about what the woman had meant by 'heal her' before the woman began sobbing anew.
She tried to feel irritated but she felt pity for her instead. She had never been an emotional person. Everyone knew that except this woman.
The woman suddenly lifted her head and looked toward the far corner of the room. Meret couldn't turn to see what she was looking at, but footsteps answered her question soon enough.
A man stepped into her view, dressed in robes similar to the woman's, like they had both walked out of a historical fantasy panel.
"I came as soon as I received your message," he said hurriedly. "I'm sorry about your loss. Losing Orlo and now losing your daughter…" he suddenly paused from what he was saying.
But at the mention of Orlo, Marilyn became intrigued and wanted him to finish his sentence. But when he finally spoke, it wasn't a continuation of what he was saying before. He instead, pointed at the far corner.
"Is that a rope hanging on the ceiling? Were you about to take your life, Irene?" he was crying now.
"I thought my daughter died after I had just find out about my Husbands death. I wasn't thinking Julio… but look… she's alive now… Arin is alive! Please make sure she is fine."
Marilyn was procesisng a lot of information at once that didn't make sense to her.
Why would this woman take her life because of me? And why does she keep calling me her daughter and did she just mentioned my beloved favorite character Orlo is her husband?
What kind of Cosplay freak show is this?
Only one person was capable of being petty and doing something this absurd to her.
Billy!
He must have sedated me to force me to go through all of this. Oh when I catch you Billy!
Just when she thought things couldn't possibly get any weirder, the man, Julio, positioned his index and middle fingers over her eyes, and a yellow light suddenly illuminated at the tips as he inspected her.
Marilyn's eyes widened. Julio must have misread her expression as discomfort, because he murmured soothingly that it would soon be over.
But Marilyn wasn't shocked by the supposed discomfort. She was astounded because she had just seen him use magic.
It can't be.
She inspected his hand to see if there was any thing hidden he was using for this… trick but there happened to not be any.
"She was bitten by a poisonous snake that left her paralyzed and at death's door. But somehow her body is recovering on its own. How did this happen, Irene?" Julio asked after withdrawing his hand.
"I told her about Orlo's death," Irene replied, tears still streaking her face. "She ran off, refusing to believe it. When I found her again, she was lying beneath the tree… where she and her father used to meet."
At that piece of information, a flood of memories crashed through Marilyn's mind all at once. She groaned at the intensity, and Julio immediately moved to her side, doing the trick he did with his fingertip to soothe her.
Weird enough for Marilyn, she started to feel better. However, the flood of memories continued to overwhelm her mind.
When the chaotic memories finally settled, Marilyn opened her eyes now understanding things from a new perspective that she was sure Billy would never be able to pull.
Her gaze shifted to the crying woman.
In her new memories, this woman was her mother… Irene. And the man Julio, was her mothers friend who was also her favorite uncle even though her mother and him weren't related.
Orlo Archer was her father.
And now, she was living in the body of the daughter of the Fallen Warrior from her favorite comic.
Marilyn still find things confusing. Not only did she now have memories she was certain she never lived, but because the book had never revealed that Orlo had a child, let alone a wife.
Marilyn tried to rack her brain on how all this came to be.
First, the glitch of her seeing herself in the Part 2 of the comic, and now she's in the novel?
Her eyes widened as she put 2 + 2 together… every thing was starting to make sense now. There was only one way this was possible.
She was hallucinating.
Yeah that's what it is. This was her mind fucking with her cause there's no way this was possible.
There's no way I actually Transmigrated into the novel.
Suddenly Marilyn felt something clawing its way up her throat. She bent over instinctively, and the contents of her stomach spilled onto the floor of the unfamiliar room.
Irene jumped up immediately. "Wait, wait! I'll get something!" she cried, dashing off.
Julio knelt behind Marilyn, rubbing gentle circles on her back. "It's alright… just breathe."
When it finally passed, Marilyn lifted her head, weak and shaking. Her eyes caught the mirror on the wall opposite her.
She froze.
The reflection staring back at her wasn't the face of her she'd grown accustomed to. It was a different face staring back at her and it was stunning… might she add.
Not exaggerated or cartoonish, just beautiful in a way that made her stomach twist again—this time with disbelief rather than nausea.
The face in the mirror moved as she moved, every subtle twitch and blink perfectly mimicked. Her hands went to her cheeks.
Oh. My. God. This is real… this is all real.
She thought as real fear engulfed her.