The Crazy Tyrant Wants To Kill Me

1

I felt the warmth of slender fingers interlocking with mine, his breath against my ear as he wrapped his other arm protectively around my waist, pulling me closer until the side of my face was pressed against his broad chest. The windows of the carriage rattled as we picked up speed on the rugged road, dim moonlight streaming in, illuminating his pale face.

My man squeezed my hand tighter, whispering a hush of comfort by my ear as if sensing my discomfort, my fear. I knew deep down I wasn't the only one afraid; he was too. But he was masking it behind a face of courage for me. 

"Your safe," he murmured, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind my ear. "Get some rest."

His breath still held the fragrant scent of jam tarts we shared. I licked my lips, the sugary taste of strawberry jam lingering in my mouth. It was as sweet as our unforgettable kiss in the kitchen. 

Slowly, I nodded off into slumber, cradled in his arms. 

***

I jerked awake to the yelps of panic-stricken horses, the carriage shuddering and swaying from side to side as we raced uncontrolably down a bumpy, potholed road.

"What's happening?" I almost slid off from the seat if it weren't for his firm grip.

I could hear desperate cries from the horses as they strained against the reins. Carriage wheels squeaked as we sped at full speed, the footman struggling to gain control. The wind was beating against my face, my dress slapping against my ankles.

A shriek of horror. A wheel popping. A grunt as one of the footmen fell from the horse.

I braced for impact, swallowing a scream of terror as the carriage tipped over into a lake of ice cold water. Water gushed in through the open doors without mercy, slamming me against the seats. I clawed for anything I could through my murky, blurring vision.

What happened? Am I underwater? And where is he?

I thrashed around, swallowing a mouthful of water in panic, choking and sputtering. My lungs burned, screaming for air. This couldn't be real. This was suppose to be the day where I would regain my freedom. Where my life, once clouding with misery and anguish, would finally look up.

I felt like my lungs might burst. Drained of energy, my arms fell limp to my sides, surrendering to the darkness below. Through my clogged vision, I saw a familiar dark silhouette getting pulled ashore, mouthing what seemed like my name. 

***

My eyes flew open, my heart pounding inside my chest. Beads of sweat trickled down my face. I swept at the damp strands of hair clinging to my forehead, a throbbing headache washing over me as I sat up,  my gaze swivelling around the room.

Sunlight streamed in through the polished windows, the crisp white curtains drawn open. Three empty chairs sat in the corner of the room with medical supplies scattered over a sink counter. The heart monitor beside me beeped a rhythmic pattern, mirroring my steady heartbeat.  The room held an agonizing smell of bleach and cleaners.

Where was I? In a hospital? How could I have ended up here?

I ran my tongue along my parched lips, struggling to remember what the last thing I had done was. I couldn't, I realized. When I reached for the memory in the back of my head, there was nothing. 

No, not only that. I couldn't remember anything. Not my name. My life. Anything. I felt my blood run cold, my heart sinking to the bottom of the stomach.

An unfamiliar reflection stared back at me behind the glass windows. Empty, muddy green eyes,  long locks of golden blonde and pale luminous skin. 

"Amanda?" The door creaked open to the arrival of a middle-aged doctor.

I frowned, my lips pursing into a straight line as I turned towards him.  The doctor's face softened at my puzzled expression, sympathy flickering in his eyes.

 "I'm Doctor Cruze. You must be wondering who you are; why you're here. I know you might find this as a shock, almost unbelievable, but you have been in an unfortunate coma for five years."

A laugh of ridicule barely escaped my lips. Uhm, what? 

"You're joking." I was in a coma for five years? Outrageous.

"According to your birth certificate, your name's Amanda Bourbon Agnes. Your parents died at birth and you lived with your older sister until she went missing. You must have couldn't handle the truth of your sister's disappearance, since you were reported missing shortly after, and found washed ashore at one of the rivers in horrible condition."

My mouth hung open, and it took me a few minutes for my brain to process what the doctor had just said. I had no memory of me ever doing such thing. No memory of that older sister. Nothing.

"It was expected that you would lose your memory." Doctor Cruze's voice was kind, as if it that would help anything. He slowly approached my bedside. "Don't worry, there's a sixty percent you'll regain your memories over time."

Sixty?

I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over my head, drenching my heart in helplessness.