Shrouded

.VIII.

I was completely shaken. I tried to recall even a fragment of my former life, but for my trouble, all I got were vague, veiled flashes of scenes that made no sense, ringing in my ears, and another blinding headache.

The man behind the desk said nothing as I cradled my throbbing head until the pain stopped. I looked up at him, across the desk, with watery eyes.

"Can't you tell me anything? A clue? A hint? How am I supposed to figure this all out myself?"

He shook his head, looking bored and dispassionate. "The Master has no way of returning your memories to you, because He knew nothing of your life. Do you think I would be more aware than He? I know nothing, either. You are responsible for remembering. It has been done. It is not impossible, but it must be you that does it."

With that, he waved his hand, and I stood once more in the alley where I'd met Jaqueline. She was leaning against one of the saggy, brown alley walls. Her eyes lit up upon seeing me again. "Oh, you're back! I was, like, about to leave."

"Leave?"

"I mean, like, if that guy had held you any longer I would have tried to figure this place out myself. I, like, didn't know what happened to you or anything."

Her constant flow of 'like's were starting to become tiresome, and I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows, trying to massage away the remnants of the headache. I slid down the same wall she was leaning on, sitting on the ground with my knees drawn to my chest. I tried to organize the storm of confusion in my mind.

I had the memories I'd collected since arriving here, and I was aware of the world around me. I still knew what buildings and people and colors were, but anything about me, personally, had been wiped, like chalk from the sidewalk after rain. Vague spots of memory remained, something about a bridge, something about needles, but I couldn't piece anything together, and trying only brought back the pounding in my head.

Who was I, then? I didn't even have a name, not a smidge of identity. As if she could read my thoughts, Jaqueline prodded me with her foot.

When I looked up at her, she smiled sincerely. "So, what's your name?"

"I... I don't know." I sighed.

"You don't know?" She gave me a look that suggested that I was being purposefully vague.

I shook my head, lifted one shoulder.

"Uh," she said, quirking an eyebrow. "Okay, well, we'll just have to, like, make one up for you." She studied my face, considering. "Skinny? Because you're, like, really skinny." She continued to scan my face. "God, like, I wish I had your cheekbones."

I sighed, rubbing the inside of my elbows. Something about the gesture was familiar, comforting. "Fine. At least until I figure out who I am." How was I going to manage that, though?

Jaqueline stared around, peering out of the alley. "Like, what should we do now? We have a to-do list." She waved the back of her left hand at me. "How do we start on it?"

I thought for a moment. "I don't know," I said finally. I had no plan, but I stood up, anyway. "Let's just... walk?"

Jaqueline sighed. "Okay."

-

We exited the alleyway and started walking up the street. There was no flow of traffic, the people all around us seemed to be wandering aimlessly, none of them acknowledging our presence. They all seemed alone, too. Jaqueline and I were the only pair in sight.

I kicked at small pebbles and listened to them skitter across the cracked, stone pavement of the road. Jaqueline asked me questions as we walked. I had explained my lack of personal memory, and it felt strange to me, deep down in my stomach, like talking to other people wasn't something I usually did.