Forgotten Love

Everything spun and pounded in her head as she lay on her front, twisted awkwardly as her feet hung in the air. Fluttering her eyes open the light stung her eyes and forced her to shut her warm honey colored eyes as the high sun hit her brutally, this was not the best way to wake up. Instead she lifted a hand and tried to open her eyes again. This time she could take everything in. It was blurry at first before it focused to the light and she sat up.

Licking her lips she stared at the high ceiling of the elegantly carved and displayed church. Along the deep mahogany pews red silk was draped down the aisle with large white bows with a gunmetal grey gem sparking in the center to hold them to the pews. Roses, Lilies, Gerbera daisies, and red tulips were scattered and crunched along the crème colored carpet down the aisle, a gun metal grey ribbons strewn among them looking as if they’d once held the flowers together in some way.

Moaning she managed to her feet, stumbling and she went. Sitting back down she removed the one bright blue high heel and tossed it down to where it landed next to its twin. Attempting to stand was so much easier with bare feet. Her hands smoothed out the beautiful dress she wore. A strapless number with intricately laid lace and bead work on the sweetheart neck line that faded into a light pattern as the dress flared at her hips, just under the crimson bow tied at her waist. The sheer of the dress and the flowing bottom was twisted horribly around her legs and torn. Adjusting the dress she looked at the expensive diamond jewelry on her wrists and the long necklace that dipped to the bottom of her breast bone, a single diamond on the end of the elegant chain.

Lifting it she looked at the gem in it was a set of number written 1910. She blinked confused as the numbers made her happy. She could say why she was happy to see 1910 on the necklace but she knew it was important and a happy reason.

Setting the necklace back in place she held it and looked around the church as she stood at the altar. Why was she the only one in the church? Why was she here? Was she getting married? If she was, to who? Those questions paled in comparison to one single question: Who am I?

Glancing around once more, she stopped at a woman lying on the stairs, brown curled locks thrown around her face as she laid on her front in a vibrant red wrap dress with a steel grey ribbon tied around her waist and crème colored heels at the bottom of the stairs.

Rushing over she shook the woman panicked. The woman moaned and pushed herself up as she turned her head to look up with bright blue eyes elegantly lines with black eye liner.

“Are you okay?” She pressed to the fallen woman in crimson. The woman nodded. “Who are you? Do you know me?” She rapidly added. The woman shook her head as she floundered and sat on the stairs.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know who I am.” The woman in crimson admitted. Licking her painted red lips and groaned. “Why are we in a church?”

“I don’t know. I think I was getting married but…” Shrugging she stood looking around.

“You’re a very pretty bride, whoever left you is a fool.” The crimson lady hummed happily. “I feel like I’ve known you for years but I don’t know a thing about you or your name, it’s just your face…its familiar.”

Looking back at the crimson lady she watched her and her features surprised. The way the woman smiled at her and her blue eye twinkled. The way she held herself as she sat on the stairs with a slight slouch, arms crossed over her crossed legs and shrugged her shoulders was familiar but she couldn’t place it.

“Same.” She whispered. Holding her hand out, she helped the lady in crimson to her feet and looked around. “Think others are around?” She whispered.

“If they are, I’m kicking their asses for leaving me on the stairs like that. I feel like there’s someone who should’ve helped me up…but I don’t know who or how.” She laughed. Smoothing her dress she sighed as the bride looked around again. “Maybe you’re ditching grooms best man since I feel like I’m dressed as a bridesmaid.”

“I want to know who I am.” The bride voiced. The woman in crimson linked arms with her and they both smiled at how natural it felt, as if they did it all the time. “I think we’re friends.”

“I think so to. So let’s go kick some ass and figure out our names, yeah?”

Laughing they walked down the aisle through the church. Not a soul was around, the parking lot was packed full of expensive cars but not a person who owned them. All they found was a single purse stashed under a table and they began to dig through it. The bride pulled a large black leather wallet that was jammed closed out as the woman in crimson began pulling out odds in ends.

Opening the wallet she stopped at the first thing she saw, a picture of three people; two adults holding a baby. It was the crimson woman with a man who had messy short deep brown hair, bright blue eyes sparkling for a camera, a wide grin of joy and a strong chin lifted gleefully. He looked like a happy little boy with his family and he was frightfully handsome. The baby looked like it’d been born not too long ago as it slept between them.

Flipping the picture over, she was greeted with a driver’s license. The name was easy to read: ABBY SHARP. The picture was an irritated photo of the woman in crimson.

“It’s you.” The bride whispered. “Abby Sharp…you have a family.” Holding it out the woman in crimson, Abby, snatched it and looked at the ID then flipped to the photo on the other side.

“Who forgets a face like that?” Abby snorted. “Hot damn, look at that man. I did damn good … oh we have a kid.” Pulling the photo out, she turned it over. Craning her neck the bride looked, it was dated December 25th 2011 Madelyn’s first Christmas written on the back. “It doesn’t say his name.” She whispered moments before tearing through the wallet as the bride took over going through the purse.

She pulled a set of keys out, only four on it. Looking at them she jingled them to draw Abby’s attention. Abby took the keys before going back to ID her and reading the address. Silently they agreed it was time to leave while packing everything back into Abby’s purse.

“I’m sorry there’s nothing in here about you.” Abby whispered, still going through the over packed wallet. The bride only shrugged.

“It’s okay. Maybe at your house…if you were supposed to be in my wedding then we’re friends. Something should be there right?” She hopefully pleaded. Abby nodded and linked arms with her again. “Now how do we get there?”

Stopping they looked at each other and hummed confused. Eyeing all the cars in the parking lot Abby dragged her keys from her purse and found a key fob and pressed the unlock button. A Mercedes flashed and beeped.

“Can you drive?” The bride whispered. She couldn’t remember anything though her brain told her she knew how to drive she couldn’t remember exactly how.

“I have a license, so…can’t be that hard?” Abby mumbled.

Getting in she went through the four keys till she found the one that fit and started it. They stared at all the nobs. Nervously Abby moved a few things. The car began to reverse slowly, making both tighten confused.

“Do you know how to get home?” The bride squeaked out.

“I don’t even know where home is.” Abby stopped the car with a lurch. The car beeped and repeated home. “How do I get home?” Abby asked confused. A small screen at the front turned on and spoke to them. Screaming they pushed back into their seats. “It’s talked…” Abby pointed.

“Is this a good idea?” The bride demand. “I mean…would walking be easier?” she added quickly.

“We’re going for it.” Abby decided. The car began to back up. “If you lie to me car, I will…kick you.” She threatened as she made it go forward in drive. Everything she was doing seemed familiar to both of them. It was something they knew they’d both done a thousand times.

The car ride was silent as Abby weaved through stand still of traffic following the directions the car was spouting and before they knew it they were pulling up in front of a building. Abby went past and into an opening and found a spot, parking in it.

“I don’t know why I parked here…” Abby whispered looking around the nearly empty parking garage. “I just…did.”

“Maybe you’re body remembers where to park?” The bride asked. “I mean it remembered how to drive.” She argued. Abby nodded slowly. Both of them got out of the car after stopping it and taking the keys, which they almost forgot to do, and looked at the apartment number on the ID.

The elevator was just as quite as they walked past the confused front desk people who asked if they knew them. They shook their heads and one congratulated the bridge on getting married, then stated that he didn’t know why he said that. They figured it was the dress she wore and she thanked him confused.

“I don’t like this.” The bride stated as they walked down the hallway. Abby got to the door and tried to knob, it opened without a key. Stepping into the house they looked around. On the couch sat the man for the picture with a sleeping little, fair haired toddler. The little girl was precious. The man looked up and stood slowly.

“Hey…” he mumbled nervously. Slowly standing as he lifted a hand to wave, the other holding tightly to the little girl against his chest.

“You’re my husband.” Abby pointed, leaving this man no room for argument. The Bride raised her brows surprised, wondering if that’s how people got married or not. Maybe that’s why her groom had run, she’d told him he was her husband and when he got the chance to run he had.

“I got that from the pictures…” he pointed to the photos scattered around the house.

“You don’t remember anything?” the bride asked. His dark brows shot up as he floundered.

“No one does.” He managed. “It’s all over the news. The city of Chicago is quarantined. No one knows anything but a few people in the city everyone else has no idea who they are or where they came from. The only one that really knows what’s going on is a Jessica Roth which sounds really familiar in a way that makes me angry.” He admitted. The name made the bride uneasy and irritated as well while Abby bristled up at the name though she didn’t know why. “She’s the one talking to the government and in control of the city because of it but…no one remembers anything and we’re not allowed contact with anyone even though the phone keys ringing I don’t want to answer it.”

“So what’s your name? I know hers is Madelyn.” Abby stated. “And we don’t know her name yet.” She pointed to the bride who waved nervously.

“I’m Patrick Sharp, according to my ID.” He clicked his tongue.

The bride took in the steel grey dress pants he wore, crimson shirt, and crème colored tie loosely around his neck and the red dress with a steel grey ribbon tied around the little girl’s waist. Licking her lips she grabbed the diamond of her necklace and sighed.

“You look dressed for a wedding.” She commented. He looked down at his attire and then back up taking them both in.

“Yeah.” He breathed. “I guess I am…and somehow I want to say congrats to you but not because of the dress something inside me is super excited for you while super bummed we can’t remember what.” He gave a sad smile as she felt tears prick at her eyes.

“I just want to start with knowing my name.” The bride sniffled.

Abby hugged her as they moved farther into the room. Sitting on the couch they watched the news and the developing story of the memory loss of the whole city aside from a handful of people. Abby had dumped her purse out and was digging through it and the wallet again.

“Kisa.” The bride’s ears perked up at the simple utterance. “Your name’s Kisa.” Looking at Abby staring at a photo she leaned over one side of Abby as Patrick leaned over the other, still holding the sleeping little girl to him.

The photo was off three people grinning at the camera: Abby, a pretty brunette with warm honey colored eyes and a wide smile, and Patrick who was making a face by pretending to lick the brunette in the middle who wasn’t paying attention to him. They were all huddled together in that order with arms wrapped around each other. Abby turned it over to look at the note scribbled onto the back which read: Kisa’s book signing 2011.

Taking the photo she looked at the three people. They were all exceptionally beautiful.

“That’s what I look like?” She whispered.

Handing the photo back she stood looking around. A mirror hung on one of the walls in the middle of family photos. Rushing over she looked at herself. She did have brunette hair that was half pinned up, half down in beautiful curls, lilies and roses pinned in the back and sides to hold up half of the locks. She had bright honey colored eyes outlined with a thick line of black across the top and golden sparkles at the edge of her eyes and bright red painted lips. She had a nice honey glow to her cheeks she knew was blush and couldn’t believe who was looking back at her.

“Kisa.” She whispered. It felt right to say to her, it felt like home as she spoke it. Turning to then she bit her bottom lip as they shrugged slowly. Turning back to the mirror her eyes wandered to the photo around the mirror. They were mostly family photos other than a few where a giant group of men were around a large shining challis, smiling brightly.

Touching the photo she dragged her fingers across it till they stopped over one man. He had smooth looking creamy skin, a few beautiful marks on his strong jaw coated in wild unruly brown hair that created a platform for a crooked smile that made her heart beat faster, but it was the eyes that made her stare as if she knew that face. He was next to Patrick.

“I don’t who any of them are.” Patrick admitted. “I know I know them and have this feeling they’re important but…I don’t know who they are, I don’t know why we’re dressed that way, what we’re doing, or even why were around a giant silver tube thing.” He shrugged.

Kisa tore herself away from the photo and the man she felt like she knew, deep knew, and moved back to the couch. She held her hands in her lap, picking at a few of the beads that were down on the thigh of the dress.

She wanted to remember so badly it hurt, physically it hurt. She was dressed for a wedding, had woken up on the altar of a church, and she wasn’t wearing a ring at all. There were so many questions that had no answers and only brought more questions.

Her head was killing her.