Remember Me

It wasn't nearly as prison like as my hospital room had been. You didn't feel the idling effects of suffocation here. It was the room at the corner of the house, and the walls were glass. Looking out on the front porch, there were dark purple curtains on an track around the windows for privacy. A fluffy bed with fabric matching the curtains. I reached out and touched the comforter hesitantly, almost jumping out of my skin when I heard a voice behind me.

“This was Hollie's room.”

I spun around, clutching my chest and struggled to retrain my horrific breathing and startled expression. Billie spoke flatly, leaning in the doorway.

“She's my sister, I've got four other siblings besides her, all out making more of themselves than I could ever dream I guess.” he snorted and reached around the corner to the dresser. Picking up an little stuffed bear. Fluffing the fur with his thumb. 

I wanted to say something but failed to even begin to know what. So I stood there, shifting on my feet, some part of me expected him to attack me.

He sighed and plopped the bear down on the dresser again, his expression becoming thoughtful. “Hollie is in collage. She is two years older than and smarter than I'll ever be. But who cares? Education has never been my thing. That's why I turned to music to aid my wounds.” he lifted his chin a fraction, his eyes seemed to be staring straight into my soul. No guilt in his eyes for doing so.

“Anyways..” he said shrugging away from the wall. “You can have any of the clothing in the dresser. Hollie won't want it when she gets back next year anyways.”

I nodded slowly.

“Oh and... Uh, Whatsername. I'll see you at dinner.” he smiled slightly before walking away and closing the door behind him. He was a very strange boy, I thought idly.

I looked around the room. It didn't feel like mine. but yet it did. I walked towards the window, the rain had stopped, it drizzled off the roof, down the window and gushed out of the gutter.I turned away and approached the bed, I stared down at it, almost amazed that it was so colorful compared to the ones in the hospital. I sat on the comforter the covered the bed. Surprised that it was soft and warm instead of hard and cold like the last bed I'd sat on.

And then, almost cat-like, I laid down, and enveloped myself in it's warmness. Pulling the edges of the blankets up around me. I hadn't realized until now just how tired I was. And as the day's work replayed through my mind of how exhausting it all was, my breathing slowed as I relaxed, all my troubles fade away, and I fell unconscious.

“Hey.” an sweet voice said, filling my dream in colorful illusions. My head swam through the river of consciousness, bright colors and fading shapes... My mind trying to create someone from memory with words that sounded so sweet. I couldn't commit anyone to the spot. But I figured that it was time to open my eyes. I could have screamed if I'd had an voice.

His face was an foot away. He sat on the edge of the remaining purple bedding.

“Hey! Are you alive?” his voice asked sharper. 

I'd only Imagined all the sweetness, he was just plain brutal. I glared at him.

“Jesus, sorry god damn I just came to get you for dinner like the sweet guy I am.” he said defensively, gesturing towards himself as he got up.

I dragged a hand down my face in frustration... It was wet and warm, what the hell?

I sat up in alarm and looked down immediately. Billie flipped on the light, and I saw the crimson stained sheets and comforter. My eyes wide, I scrambled out of bed and looked down at my arms... My bloody arms.

Billie stared at me in horror. “I'll go get Ollie.” he said as calmly as he could manage, still it sounded like he was choking on the words. He ran from the doorway and my throat tightened as I began to recall what I had dreamt about...

The hospital... The nurses passed syringes of serum, pale faces smooth, uncaring. As though they were folding laundry and not ending another human life. The last nurse handed a syringe to the doctor, who smiled down at me, his palm resting on my forehead...

"It's okay now... Just sleep..." he went to put the needle into my wrist, and I fought him. The nurses held my arms down and the needle went in, the plunger pushed down, I clawed at my wrists, desperate to get out the poison...

And so...I'd attacked myself in real life.

Ollie burst into the room with a scared look on her face, though she hid it well... Billie followed her, and handed her a damp washcloth.

“Oh god...” she murmured, looking down at the bedspread.

She guided me away from the bed and instructed Billie to go wash it so it didn't stain while she mended me. But I think that she really just wanted him out of the room because she didn't want him to have to know anymore about my hospital past than he needs to because it will change the way he looks at me. At least... I hope so, chances were he was squeamish and couldn't handle blood.

She smiled at me anyways, and I wasn't really deserving of it... After all, I'd trashed her guest room with my crimson chromosomes. She had me sit on a wooden stool by the vanity and began rubbing the blood out of the wounds carefully with an wet washcloth. When she could get an good look at the cuts, or claw marks if you will... She secured an few rounds of gauze and taped them tightly. Then asked me to close my eyes while she rubbed the dry blood off my face.

When Billie came back, he leaned casually in the hall with Mike and Tré. Muttering low words, Billie stared at my eyes and shook his head slowly, turning to meet them. He whispered something to them, and Mike raised his eyebrow skeptically. Then shrugged at whatever he had been told.

“There, all better.” Ollie smiled at me as she cleaned up the gauze wrappers and excess materials from the sheets. The phone rang in the living room and she walked out to go answer it.

Billie looked at me cautiously before he entered the room. He kept his hands to himself, and kept the maximum distance between us that he could manage in the small space.

“Here.” he offered “Let's get you into something else.” he gestured towards my blood soiled t-shirt that Ollie had lent me.

I nodded, he walked towards the desk and pulled open a few of the drawers of the dresser until he found the one with shirts and jeans. He gestured for me to find something. 

He smiled softly before walking over to the windows and pulling the curtain around till none of the fading sunset light reached the room. I felt the faint disappointment... I'd been enjoying the view.

He walked out the door and shut it behind him without another word. I sighed a little, looking around myself, almost to assure that I was completely alone. I looked down at the dresser full of clothes, I hesitantly pulled up the t-shirts. Looking for something that caught my eye, it really was no time to be picky... At the bottom of the drawer I found an cottony red flannel shirt to wear. That seemed suiting.

I pulled off the rejected clothing and tossed them to the floor while I pulled on the flannel shirt and an loose pair of grey jeans. I looked around under a silver chain belt hanging over the closet door beaconned me, and I grabbed that and fed it through the belt loops and fixed it on tightly, sure, it fixed the baggy jean issue, but the legs were still a bit long, I paused by the door to roll them each twice.

I didn't really care how I looked now as I went down the hall to the kitchen. Where Ollie held an phone to her ear while stirring something in an pot on the stove. I decided she was busy and to go find something else to do.

“Hey Whatsername." Billie called from behind me in the living room. He sat on the couch with the others.

I looked at him, warily.

“Come here.” it really wasn't an option... More like a demand.

I crossed the room and sat down on the floor, Looking up at him. He held on of those things I'd seen earlier. I made an confused expression and pointed to his object. Sign languaging him to tell me what it was.

He laughed a bit “This?” he pointed to it.

I nodded.

He looked confused “It's an guitar.” he clarified.

I stared at it wide eyed for an minute. What the hell is a guitar?...

His brow furrowed “haven't you ever seen one?” he asked. No teasing in his tone now.

I shook my head.

He looked down and strummed his hand down the six. Strings that spanned from the top to mid bottom.

“Never?” he asked. Fascinated.

I shook my head again. Then spun my finger around the side of my head to signal to him that I'm probably mental.

He surprised me by laughing “I don't know where my mom got her, but she's great!” he laughed.
I looked at him for a while. I pointed to my head and shook it sadly.

He looked confused again “You mean... That you can't remember it?”

I nodded then shrugged.

He was dumbfounded for a moment as he tried to grasp that.

“Well then. As long as you live with me and my mom, and occasionally my other siblings, you'll be able to remember everything of your old life.” he said honestly. I doubted it, but appreciated his effort.

I nodded and grinned. Someone to help me. Maybe Billie wasn't the rude dude I'd met with Ollie. But still I'd have to get used to him. He couldn't just become instantly my best friend, no. He'd leap through the hoops I tossed at him like everybody else. I watched him. Tré drummed on the edge of the dark brown coffee table with two chopsticks. Mike also held a guitar and they appeared to be having a mini band practice. I watched with infatuation. 

“Dinner is ready.” Ollie said stepping out of the kitchen. Surprised that I was among the men folk instead of reveling alone. A smile of pride spread across her face and we stood and stretched, heading to the kitchen where Ollie had dinner ready.