The Lines Between Us | ✔

|.21.|

September 19th, 10:32 am,

Bella

My eyes widen from the craving for food. Any food. Just something to eat. I have been sitting on this bed since I woke up a quarter of an hour ago. The hospital. Again. I remember being here just yesterday. Or was it the day before? I don't remember. I do remember the ally I was in, freezing to death all night. I don't know why, or how I was there. But I know I didn't imagine it.

The shadow is back in my mind. I almost remember leaving the hospital, going to a room, him still with me. I just can't seem to shake him from my mind. Even if I try to force the memories out of my head, the figure never claims his face. They are just. . . there.

In the room, I remember going to sleep. In a comfy bed. My bed? The thing is. . . I don't remember waking up. I don't even remember the journey to the room, like I just appeared there. 

For the brief time I have been here, I have kept my eyes squeezed closed. I want it to all go away. It's like my days are slipping away from me, and the last moments I can actually remember might actually be fake. Lifting my arm, I rub my lids, wedging them open. In doing so, a sharp burst of red catches my eyes. The scarring of a name carved deep into my flesh.

Ashton Rodriquez

I have never heard the name before. And there is only his. Or hers. It sounds like a boy. There is no other name, just theirs and a plain space. I remember before, both my lines were faintly on my skin. Now it has changed. It's in the same place I felt the pain when I was running home. When I saw the name form, but then stop. Has my killer officially found me? But so soon.

I want to run. The name doesn't fade as I shuffle around. It isn't just a line anymore, it is a fully-formed name. These ones don't disappear. Why haven't they done it yet? I feel safer in the hospital, my killer unable to act.

I don't know where I have been these past few days, so I have no luck in recalling an Ashton. They must be hiding in the shadows. My skin is cool inside, but warm to the touch, my body underneath a duvet, and a weird foil blanket. I almost shiver, but I control myself, trying not to think about the cold. You are safe. Warm and safe. Voices of comfort chant in my mind.

Maybe it's my soulmate?

There's always a chance, really. There is literally no way of telling who is who. It could help if I have another name to compare, but I don't. Not even a faint indent. Nothing.

Bella, stop it. I try to stop harassing my mind with terrible thoughts. The negativity is overwhelming. The fear is stopping me from thinking straight, I can't even tell if I am cold anymore. Did my killer put me here? Was this a failed attempt?

I breathe, releasing a hot cloud of air in front of me. It forms, then fades in an instant. Like my memories- shooting in my mind for a second, then dissipating. I try and demand my mind to remember. I don't even know if I have forgotten anything, but I feel a nagging in my head. Like it is later than I think. Like it is weeks later, and I can't remember. I feel as though I can remember things happening, but can't piece them together. For all I know, they are just wandering thoughts.

A woman enters the room, causing me to sit up further. She is wearing a full coat of blue; hair tied up in a sharp, tight bun at the back of her head. A small smirk rides her face like she was just laughing at something. ''Ah, Isabella.'' She clasps her hands together. ''How are you feeling?'' She doesn't stop moving, coming to fiddle with the bag to the right of my head.

''Good, thank you.''

I don't know what else to say. My answer is blunt but true. If I'm honest, I don't feel anything- discounting the fear and iciness of my body. ''How is your arm feeling?'' I follow her eyes, looking at the arm with the name. What does she mean? ''You got your cast removed before you woke up. Originally, it was a really small hairline fracture, and it will heal without the cast for the last couple of weeks.'' Cast?