We Are Not The Once That Decide Your Faith

I groan softly. My head is pounding. What the fuck happened? Slowly I open my eyes but immediately squeeze them shut again from the amount of light.

"Uh, Dhodo? She's been out cold for the past three days and nights." A male voice points out in Quenya.

"Yeah," another male responds. "Past, how much Abodrose did you poison her with?"

"Not more than any other time," a girl responds this time. "I mean, I did use more, but not excessively more."

"Unbelievable."

The three people start arguing. I pay no mind to them. My head is pounding too much to think, let alone follow an argument. Their yelling makes my headache worse. So, I cover my ears with my arms. I groan again when it does little to block out the loud voices and gently flop myself on my stomach, so I can rest my head between my arms – that way, blocking out the light and the screeching.