The Girl With Lost Memories - Parts 1 & 2 (An OUAT Fanfiction)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 31: 𝐼𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝐵𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓈

Today's pretty peaceful. I spend most of it at a park called Heritage. There's the lake I bathed in, a path, orange trees, desaturated grass, benches, and squirrels. It's a nice place to be this season, but I can only think about the DNA test.

It's almost time for me to meet Regina at her house. She's going to drive us to the hospital. I'm freaking out. I'll know who my parents are after sixteen years of wondering. I'm so close to having a family. And if they're in Storybrooke, I'll be even closer.

Mr. Gold exits the library as I'm about to pass the doors, and my blood freezes and drops to my feet.

"Afternoon, Miss Palmer." He bows, and a light breeze blows his long brown hair back.

My heart beats against my chest, and somehow I say, "Good afternoon." It comes out dry.

"Have you thought about it?"

I don't answer. I will never think about it. I still don't know what he did to me.

"The deal?"

"Not really." Too many people told me not to trust him or make a deal with him. Unfortunately, I've done one of those, and look how that turned out.

"You should consider it, dearie. You'll be wanting me on your side," he says, bobbing his head.

"No. Absolutely not will I make a deal with you. Not after what happened this morning."

"I've been meaning to ask about that. Have you figured out the price?"

I hold in my breath. What I'm experiencing isn't magic-related. It's something medical. It has to be. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"All magic comes with a price, dearie."

A sudden force comes over me. Not this shit again. I hold my head and see Mr. Gold as a reptilian man. He's saying that phrase to me—"All magic comes with a price, dearie." It's the same demonic, child-like voice as before. Then, it stops and leaves me panting.

"Looks like you're already paying." As he walks away, he says, "If you need help, you know where to find me."

What's happening to me? These visions are a lot like my dreams, but worse. They're fractured. They're flashes. And painful. They drain me of my energy. And, somehow, Mr. Gold knew this would happen.

This is the price. Of what? I don't know.

But I'm going to find out.

* * *

Distant thunder rumbles as I look out the window in the living room of Mary Margaret's apartment. She's setting the plates for dinner on the table while Emma puts on a soft, ambient record. The relaxing song is a piano ballad with no lyrics. David opens up the furnace and stokes the crackling fire.

How can I tell any of them what's happening to me without them thinking I'm crazy? What if this is what's happened to all of them? The visions made them go mad, and they believed what they saw. Maybe the visions get so powerful and clear that they feel like memories. Is that possible? What drug does that?

I want to seek help from one of my new friends, but who will believe me? I'm still a stranger. They'll put me in an asylum. Or worse—drive me out with torches and pitchforks.

Emma says about fifteen minutes into our meal, "It's too quiet without Henry."

"Regina said he can visit tomorrow," David says.

"Yeah. Before breakfast, which means he'll be here for ten minutes."

"It's something, Emma," Mary Margaret says, lifting her glass of white wine.